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popular Stories. 

By AMY BROOKS. 

Each beautifully illustrated by the Author, 

THE RANDY BOOKS. 

i2mo. Cloth. Cover Designs by the Author, Price $i.oo each. 

RANDY’S SUMMER. RANDY’S GOOD TIMES. 

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“What were you laughing at?” questioned Prue. — Page 44 



Zbe prue Boofts 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


BY 

AMY BROOKS 

•) 

Author of “Dorothy Dainty Series,” “The Randy Books,” 
“ A Jolly Cat Tale,” and “The Prue Books” 


ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


Published, August, 1910 



Copyright, 1910, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 


All Rights Reserved 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


« • 

» * 4 

• > 

» C 4 

•« 

Korbjooti 

Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U. S. A. 


ecu 26 8 172 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I. 

What They Saw . 




1 

II. 

A Firm Little Friend 




. 20 

III. 

A Little Scarecrow . 




. 42 

IV. 

The Big Fiddle . 




. 62 

V. 

The Newest Little Girl . 




. 81 

VI. 

The Party .... 




. 101 

VII. 

Hi 




. 119 

VIII. 

Hi Makes His Debut 




. 140 

IX. 

Sunday 




. 159 

X. 

Johnny Opens a Store 




. 179 

XI. 

The Donation Party 




. 186 

XII. 

Johnny Enjoys a Feast . 




. 219 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


What were you laughing at? questioned Prue 

{Page 44 ) Frontispiece 


FACING PAGE 

Her heart beat quicker at the thought that she 


MIGHT BE LATE 

• 

• 

• 

QO 1/ 

Prue was using a huge burdock leaf for a violin 

68 1/ 

Oh, LET ME RIDE MY BEST TO - DAy! 

• 

• 

• 

134 -/" 

Your truly name is Philomena ’’ . 

• 

• 

• 

160 

Guess what’s in it ” . 



• 

206 




PRUE’S PLAYMATES 

CHAPTER I 

WHAT THEY SAW 

“ T’LL make a new suit for Gloriana, and 
it’ll be the finest she’s ever had. I’ll 
have it trimmed with white fur. I don’t 
care if it is summer, she’ll have to wear it 
if she melts! ” 

The big doll smiled quite as brightly as if 
she understood all that Prue was saying, 
while the kitten, sitting on the grass beside 
her, watched the fiaxen curls as they flut- 
tered in the breeze. 

“ Oh, my pieces are blowing away, and 
there goes the cotton wool that I was go- 
ing to use for fur! ” 


1 


2 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Prue scrambled to her feet, and chased 
her treasures, and captured them. 

She sat down again upon the grass, 
placed her pieces beside her, and laid two 
spools upon them that they might not again 
blow away. 

Once more the breeze tossed Oloriana’s 
curls, and the kitten, thinking them just the 
thing to play with, sprang at the big doll, 
fastening her claws in the soft flaxen ring- 
lets. 

“ Oh, pussy! You mustn’t pull her curls. 
Why, you naughty kitten! You’re chewing 
them! ” 

Very gently she loosened the curls from 
the kitten’s sharp little claws, gave her a 
bit of string to play with, and then, spread- 
ing her cloth upon her lap, commenced to 
cut a skirt for Gloriana, using the doll’s old 
dress for a pattern. 


WMAT THEY SAW 


3 


Her own curls shone in the sunlight, and 
her brown eyes were bright with eicite- 
ment. The light blue cloth had just been 
given her by Philury, the maid-of-all-work 
at the farm. It was like Philury ’s own new 
dress, and Prue knew that there was quite 
enough for a dress and a coat besides. 

“Now let me measure you,” said Prue. 

“ Who? ” asked a merry voice. 

“ Gloriana,” Prue replied, without look- 
ing up. 

The small hoy who had asked the ques- 
tion moved nearer. He was Johnny Buf- 
fum, one of Prue’s little playmates. 

“ Say! What makes ye make doll’s 
clothes? Come an’ play tag, er hop-scotch. 
Anything’s better ’n fussin’ with old doll’s 
things,” said Johnny. 

“ She’s almost new, Johnny Buffum, and 
I’m making this suit because I want to. 


4 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Hitty is coming up here, and we’re both go- 
ing to sew,” said Prue. 

Prue Weston was a dear little girl, and 
she was usually willing to do anything to 
please a playmate; but Johnny had spoken 
of the beautiful Gloriana as “ an old doll,” 
and Prue thought he deserved to have to 
hunt for some one to play with. 

She turned toward the road. 

There’s Hitty, now,” she said, “ and 
she’s got all her sewing things in her apron, 
so I’ll have to sew! ” 

“I’d like ter know why? ” said Johnny 
in disgust, “ an’ if ye do sit here an’ make 
them doll’s duds, who’m I ter play with? ” 

“ Oh, any of the boys,” Prue replied care- 
lessly, at the same time holding a piece of 
the blue cloth up to Gloriana ’s face, and tip- 
ping her head to one side to decide if it were 
becoming. 


WHAT THEY SAW 


5 


“ The other fellers are all gone off some- 
wheres,” said Johnny. 

Then well let you sit here and see us 
sew,” said Prue. 

‘‘ P’raps ye think that’s fun! ” returned 
J ohnny. 

“ Some boys I know would be glad to 
stay,” Prue said, slyly peeping at Johnny’s 
face. 

‘‘I’ll stay,” he answered quickly. 

Prue had said that Kitty’s apron held 
“all her sewing things,” but when Kitty 
commenced to take out its contents, it 
looked as if she had brought every scrap of 
cloth and ribbon that the Buffum house had 
held. 

“ That pink calico is lovely,” said Kitty, 
spreading it for Prue to see, “ and this 
bright green braid is what I’m going to 
trim it with.” 


6 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Will green look nice on it? ” asked 
Prue. 

“ Of course it will,” said Hitty, “ and 
that’s Avhat I’ll trim it with.” 

“ I wonder ye don’t sew somethin’ yaller 
on to it, too,” grumbled Johnny in disgust. 

“ I will, if I want to,” said Hitty sweetly. 

“ And this plaid cloth is for a lining to a 
cape I’m going to make,” she continued. 

“ Does ma know ye’ve got that? ” asked 
Johnny, at the same time nodding his head 
as if he had caught Hitty in mischief. 

‘‘ Ma knows everything! ” Hitty declared. 

No, she don’t,” Johnny replied, “ for 
she don’t know ye’ve got that ’ere plaid 
stuff; I know she don’t, an’ she don’t know 
where Mrs. Hodgkins ’s red cow is, hut I do. 
She’s into Josiah Hoyden’s turnip patch, 
eatin’ aU the tops off’n ’em, ’n’ I sha’n’t 
tell. Josiah is the meanest man in these 


WHAT THEY SAW 


7 


parts, an’ he hates boys. That’s some of 
the reason we hates him.” 

Hitty usually felt obliged to correct 
Johnny, but the boys were not the only ones 
who disliked J osiah Boyden. She even 
laughed, as she thought how angry he 
would be when he saw the cow munching 
the turnip tops. 

“I’d like to hear what he’ll say when he 
finds the cow there,” said Hitty. 

“ And what he’ll say to Mrs. Hodgkins, 
too,” ventured Prue. 

“I’d ’nough rather hear what Mrs. 
Hodgkins says. Ye know, after he’s said 
everything he kin think of, she always 
thinks of somethin’ ever so much smarter’n 
anything he’s said, and then she just says 
it, in a way that makes him shout,” said 
J ohnny. 

“ Now, Johnny, you be still a minute 


8 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


wliile I measure this doll for a cape. IVe 
just ’nough cloth if I’m careful, but if you 
keep talking I may get it wrong,” said 
Hitty, “ and I haven’t any more cloth like 
it.” 

Johnny felt that he was nearly as un- 
happy as if he were alone. 

“ What’s the good of bein’ here with 
you ’n’ Prue, if ye won’t play anything? ” 
he grumbled. 

Prue tried to comfort him. 

“We must sew,” she said, “ but you can 
sew, too, for I’ll let you play that Gloriana 
is a boy, and you can make her a pair of 
pants! ” 

“ Ketch me sewin’ anything! ” Johnny 
replied. 

His little face was usually smiling, but 
now a frown darkened his eyes, and he stood 
digging his toe into the dirt, and scattering 


WHAT THEY SAW 


9 


small pebbles in every direction. He was 
wondering if there was anything that could 
so interest Prue that she would willingly 
leave her sewing. 

He was still digging up the gravel when 
a bright thought made his roguish eyes 
twinkle. 

“ That old red cow is in the turnip patch 
now, but she won’t be all day. ’Fore ye 
know it, Josiah’ll be drivin’ her out; an’ if 
Mrs. Hodgkins sees him, it’ll be reel ex- 
citin’! I wouldn’t be s ’prised if she took 
an’ driv Josiah with a broom! ” 

As Johnny said this, he glanced at Prue. 

Do you b’lieve all that would happen? 
Do you truly f ” she asked. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder,” Johnny replied, 
“ an’ if we start now, we may be in time ter 
see the fun. Of course we can set here, an’ 
not see anything. If this crowd was all 


10 


PBVE’8 PLAYMATES 


boys, we’d scoot right oft ter see the doin’s, 
but gals ain’t got no more go than ter set 
an’ make doll’s duds.” 

Prue looked at Hitty. 

“ Would you? ” she asked. 

Johnny felt sure that he would have his 
way, so he said, with a saucy smile, 

“Ye needn’t bother ’baout goin’. Ye kin 
keep on makin’ doll’s clothes. I kin see the 
fun alone! ” 

“ We’re going! ” declared Prue, at the 
same time making a bundle of the beautiful 
Gloriana and all the pieces, and tucking it 
in under an old wooden box that she turned 
upside down. 

“ Gloriana is safe enough there. Come 
on! ” she cried, running on ahead, with 
Hitty and Johnny following, 

“ Wait for me! ” called Hitty, “ I’ve got 
to stop an’ tie my shoe! ” 


WHAT THEY SAW 


11 


Never mind yer shoe,” was Johnny’s 
imfeeling reply, as he caught Prue’s hand 
and hurried onward. 

“ But if I don’t tie it, I’U lose it off! ” 
wailed Hitty. 

Take it in yer hand! ” shouted Johnny, 

ye can’t stop for an ol’ shoe when ye want 
ter see a cow! ” 

Anybody ’d think we never saw one,” 
grumbled Hitty, but she did not stop to tie 
the dangling string. 

“ Where ye goin”? ” asked one of the 
Butley twins, as he leaned from the bam 
window to watch the three children racing 
along the road. 

“ Goin’ ter see a — cow! ” gasped 
Johnny, all out of breath. 

“ Jiminy! Ain’t ye never seen one be- 
fore? ” came the answer with a giggle. 

‘‘We don’t care whether we have or not. 


12 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


but we’re 'bound to see one nowl ” called 
Prue. 

“ Good land alive! They’s five in this 
barn; ye might as well stop here,” yelled 
Joe Butley, but they did not hear him, and 
ran even faster than before. 

And when, at last, they reached the tur- 
nip patch, there stood the red cow content- 
edly munching; but there surely was noth- 
ing exciting in that. Prue was disgusted. 

“ The idea of running way down here to 
look at that! ” she cried, pointing her fore- 
finger at the cow. “ Josiah isn’t here, and 
Mrs. Hodgkins isn’t here, and you said, — ” 

“ I said p’raps they’d both be here, but 
ye know, of course, I couldn’t be sure, could 
I, now? ” 

“ Well, we thought you were ^most sure,” 
said Hitty. 

“ If we’d kept right on sewing, I’d have 


WHAT THEY SAW 


13 


finished Gloriana’s skirt by this time, and 
her coat would have been almost — ” 

“ Oh, look there! ” said Johnny in a very 
loud whisper. 

“ Oh— o— ! ” gasped Prue, and 

“ Oo— oo! ” gurgled Hitty, as their eyes 
followed Johnny’s pointing finger. 

It was, indeed, an odd sight. J osiah Boy- 
den, a long switch in his hand, was ap- 
proaching the cow, while Mrs. Hodgkins, 
determined to protect her property, was fol- 
lowing him as fast as her huge weight would 
permit. She, too, carried a weapon, but it 
was far stronger than a switch, — it was a 
hoe. 

For a few steps she would drag it along 
the ground, and then, as if a fit of anger 
seized her, she would lift it high above her 
head. 

“ What’s he goin’ to do? ” whispered 


14 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Prue, forgetting that they were too far 
away from the people whom they were 
watching to he heard. 

‘‘ What’s she goin’ ter do? ” said Johnny. 

“ She looks as if she meant to hoe his 
head oft like you chop the tops oft’n weeds,” 
said Hitty. 

And while the children almost held their 
breath to watch them, Josiah was getting 
nearer to the cow; fat Mrs. Hodgkins, in 
spite of her mighty effort to overtake him, 
was really being left behind. 

“ She can’t catch him! ” whispered Hitty. 

‘‘ Oh, yes, she will! ” said Prue; and just 
at that moment, Josiah shouted so loudly 
that the three children actually jumped. 

“ Gee, whish! ” he yelled, “ get out’n my 
tarnip patch! ” but, like her owner, Moolly 
was not easily driven, so she eyed him a 
second, and then continued to eat. 


WHAT THEY SAW 


15 


“ Git, will ye, ’fore I thrash ye! ” he 
howled. 

“ No ye don’t, Josiah! ” said Mrs. Hodg- 
kins. 

“Ye follerin’ me raound, Sophrony? ” he 
snarled. 

“ I be when my caow is in question,” was 
the pert answer. 

“ Wal, ye needn’t; fer I don’t like yer 
comp’ny,” Josiah said. 

“ I don’t like your’n; I’d ’nough rather 
’sociate with that caow,” snapped Mrs. 
Hodgkins. “ I do hate ter own ye fer a 
rel’tive.” 

“I’ll use this switch on her ef she don’t 
quit my tarnips.” 

“ Ef ye do. I’ll use this hoe on ye, ye 
old—! ” she paused because she could not 
think of any fitting name to call him. 

“ D’ye know who I be? ” roared Josiah; 


16 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


“I’m an ex-seelectman, an’ a piece of the 
school committee.” 

“ An’ I’m the spunkiest woman ye ever 
see! ” declared Mrs. Hodgkins. 

Just here, Johnny forgot himself. 

“ Good fer you, Mrs. Hodgkins! ” he 
shouted. 

The astonished pair turned, and saw the 
three children staring at them. 

“ Thank ye,” laughed Mrs. Hodgkins, 
while J osiah Boyden slunk away, only turn- 
ing to say: 

“ May be ye better git yer caow home,” 
to which Mrs. Hodgkins replied coolly: 

“ I would have, before, ef ye’d let her 
alone.” 

After Josiah had disappeared, she led the 
cow along to the edge of the turnip patch, 
then, beckoning to the children, she called 
with a jolly laugh: 


WHAT THEY SAW 


17 


“Ye seen the performance, naow ye’d 
oughter hev a treat. Oome over ter the 
house, an’ I’ll give ye some cookies! ” 

They did not wait to be urged, but 
trudged along beside her, sometimes wait- 
ing because Moolly insisted upon getting a 
bite on the way. 

Oh, how they enjoyed those cookies! 
They did not mind answering Mrs. Hodg- 
kins ’s questions, because it was really 
worth while to reply to all her queries so 
long as she continued to pass the little 
cakes. 

“ Is yer ma cookin’ ter-day? ” she asked 
Johnny. 

With his mouth full of cake, he replied: 

“ Ho, she ain’t; she’s washin’.” 

“ Why, that’s odd,” said Mrs. Hodgkins, 
“ fer this is Wednesday. I wash Mondays. 
I shouldn’t think I’d git my work done 


18 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


right ter do it any day but Monday. I’d 
think the week wouldn’t come aout 
straight.” 

“ I s’pose yer sister Eandy is all settled 
in her new home, isn’t she, Prue? ” 

Oh, yes,” said Prue, ’cause she’s been 
married a long time, and all her closets are 
full.” 

“ All her closets are full! ” repeated Mrs. 
Hodgkins; “ full of what? ” 

“ Full of everything! ” declared Prue, 
looking up at her with very round eyes. 

Mrs. Hodgkins was puzzled. 

“ What does she mean, Hitty? ” she 
asked. 

“ I don’t know,” said Hitty, “ but that’s 
what Ma says.” 

Mrs. Hodgkins decided to travel all over 
the town, if necessary, to find out what 
Eandy ’s closets were filled with. 


WHAT THEY SAW 


19 


As they trudged along home, Prue and 
Hitty talked of the treat that they had en- 
joyed, until Johnny felt that they ought to 
say that he was the means of all the pleas- 
ure. 

‘‘It’s all because of me that ye had a fine 
time,” he remarked. “ If I hadn’t teased 
ye, you an’ Prue would have been jest 
settin’ an’ sewin’. ’Stead of that, ye seen 
a regular sight, an’ had a fine treat.” 

“ Well, you did just make us come over 
here,” said Prue, “ and we can make doll’s 
clothes any time.” 

“Joe Butley laughed at us ’cause we told 
him we was running ter see a cow, but if 
Joe knew what we seen, and what Mrs. 
Hodgkins gin us, he’d wish he’d been there; 
fer Joe likes ter eat, most as well as I do,” 
Johnny said. 


CHAPTER II 

A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 

"jpHILURY, on her way to the Centre, 
heard some one hurrying after her. 
She turned, and was surprised to see Prue 
flying along the road. 

“ Where ye goin’, Prue? ” she asked. 

“ Going with you, to the post-office and 
Barnes’s store,” said Prue. She had left 
her hat at home, but in her dimpled hand 
she clutched a handkerchief, held tightly by 
one of its corners. 

I thought you were holding the yam 
for Aunt Prudence to wind? ” Philury said. 

“ I was holding it, but soon as I saw you 
going down the path, I let it drop on the 
20 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


21 


floor, and ran after you,” said Prue, still 
very much out of breath. 

‘‘ WeU, I guess Aunt Prudence will he 
consid’able riled,” Philury replied. “ Just 
think what a snarl that yarn will he in, an’ 
her a-plannin’ ter knit a shawl fer her first 
cousin’s uncle’s step-daughter! ” 

“ I told Aunt Prudence I’d hold that yarn 
for her this afternoon,” said Prue, “ but I 
most think I can’t.” 

“ Why? ” asked Philury. 

“ ’Cause I caught my toe in it, and 
dragged it half across the floor before I 
could get my foot out of it. Wasn’t it funny 
yam to act like that? ” 

“ Funny yam, an’ funny youngster,” 
said Philury, laughing because she could 
not help it. “ What was yer msh ter git 
daown taown? ” 

“ I want to get a ball, and there’s some in 


22 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Barnes’s store, and they’re just what I 
want. They cost three cents, and I’ve got 
two tied in the corner of my handkerchief,” 
chirped Prue. 

“ What’ll ye do ’baout the other cent? ” 
questioned Philury, 

Prue looked up quickly at the question. 

“ Why you’ll give it to me, so I’ll have 
three, ’cause I love you, Philury.” 

The girl’s honest face shone with pleas- 
ure. 

“ Of course I will, ye little coaxer,” she 
said, “ I can’t ever say ‘ no ’ when ye ax 
fer a thing, no matter what ’tis.” 

Arrived at the store, Philury made her 
purchases, gave the cent to Prue, and 
turned to look at a piece of calico that Silas 
Barnes had just unwrapped. 

“ Better hev a dress off’n this,” he said, 
“ fer it’s ’mazin’ pooty, an’ it’ll sell quick, 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


23 


I tell ye. I’m goin’ ter send a pattern oft’n 
it ter Deacon Lawton’s wife, an’ one ter 
Mis’ Meeks, an’ a few others. It might be 
all of it gone ef ye wait ter think ’baout it, 
so ye’d hev ter take suthin’ else.” 

Philury hesitated. 

“ The color is fast,” he urged, “ it’s ile- 
hiled! ” 

I guess I’ll hev ten yards,” said Phi- 
lury. 

Think that’ll he ’nough? ” Barnes 
asked. 

‘‘ Land, yes! ” said Philury. “ Haow hig 
do ye think I be? Twelve yards goes 
’raound Mis’ Hodgkins, an’ she’s ’most as 
hig raound as a tub. Ten yards’ll give me 
’nough calico ter make a dress, an’ an over- 
coat! ” 

And while her parcels were being se- 
curely wrapped, she laughed and joked with 


24 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Joel Simpkins, the clerk. She picked up 
her bundles, and then, for the first time, 
missed Prue. 

‘‘ Lookin’ fer Prue? ” Joel asked. 

“ Why, yes,” said Philury, “ where on 
airth is she? ” 

“ She bought a ball, an’ a minute after, 
she ran out the door an’ up the road,” said 
Joel. 

“ She’s run on ahead jest ter git home 
fust,” Philury said. ‘‘ She often does that. 
She’ll watch fer me, and jump aout from 
behind a bush, or a tree, and laugh. She 
knows I always like ter see her do it.” 

She left the store, and as she walked 
along the shady road, she glanced toward 
each sturdy trunk, or peeped around the 
bushes that grew by the low stone walls, 
but little Prue was not in sight. 

“ Got tired of waitin’ while I bargained 


A FIBM LITTLE FRIEND 


25 


for the calico,” thought Philury, believing 
that Prue would be waiting for her in the 
door- way when she reached home. 

But Prue was not at home, nor was she 
anywhere in the neighborhood. 

She had, indeed, become tired of waiting 
for Philury, and ran out to play on the road 
with the new ball. It bounced beautifully, 
and many times she caught it. 

Then it flew down the road, rolled to one 
side on to the short grass, and then down to 
the shallow brook which ran under the road. 
It stopped at the water’s edge, and Prue 
snatched at it, picked it up, found that it 
was not wet, and put it in her pocket. 

“ I guess 111 wait till I get back home to 
play with it,” she said, “ then I won’t lose 
it.” 

She looked toward the store, Philury 
was not in sight. 


26 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ She’s buying more calico, I do just be- 
lieve she is! ” said Prue. 

She took the pretty ball from her pocket, 
and once more tossed it into the air, al- 
though she feared the chance of losing it. 
She thought she must play with something, 
that the waiting need not seem so long. 

She did not catch it, and it landed on the 
dusty road, rolling as if it never intended to 
stop. 

She ran after it, picked it up, put it once 
more in her pocket, and was about to run 
back, when something farther down the 
road made her stop. 

It was a heap of something, — but what 
was it? She ran a few steps toward it, and 
pausing, looked again. It moved! 

“ Why, it’s a boy! ” she whispered, “ but 
how funny he looks.” 

His back was toward her, and he was sit- 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


27 


ting upon tlie ground. He had clasped his 
arms around his knees, and dropped his 
head upon them. 

From where Prue stood, he looked like a 
bundle of clothing, and any one far less curi- 
ous than little Prue, would have wondered 
why he sat huddled in a heap, by the side 
of the road. 

And while she stood watching him, he 
lifted his head. 

It was Joe Butley! 

Quickly she ran toward him. He heard 
her footsteps and looked up, then hid his 
face again, but not quickly enough to hide 
the trace of tears. 

“ Joe Butley crying! ” said Prue, under 
her breath. 

She would not have believed that any- 
thing could force tears from Joe’s bold eyes. 

She could not bear to see those tears. 


28 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Naughty, merry, mischievous Joe! What 
could it be that made him feel so badly? 
Her kind little heart was full of pity. 

“ Oh, Joe! ” she cried, running until she 
stood close beside him. “ Look up, Joe, and 
tell me what plagues you.” 

He felt her small hand upon his shoulder, 
and the sob that his boyish pride had tried 
to stifle broke from his lips, and frightened 
little Prue. 

‘‘ Tell me, Joe, tell me! ” she urged; “ and 
I’ll help you if I can! ” she added sweetly, 
but the boy did not reply. 

‘‘ Don’t you know that I’m sorry? ” she 
asked, in gentle pleading. 

He muttered something in a snuffling 
voice, but she could not tell what he was 
saying. 

“ P’raps I can help you, Joe, if you’ll just 
let me,” she urged again, at the same time 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


29 


patting his shoulder and trying to get a peep 
at his face. 

She stooped, and tried to peer up under 
his arms. 

Joel ” she whispered. 

“ What? ” 

“ Oh, now you answer me,” she said, a 
glad little ring in her voice, ‘‘wow you’ll let 
me help you.” 

“ Ye can’t! ” wailed Joe. 

“ Tell me this minute! ” demanded Prue, 
“ and then I’ll know if I can help.” 

“ What could ye do? ” cried the hoy; 
“ the constable’s bigger ’n you or I be, an’ 
he’s took an’ lugged Job off! Ain’t that 
enough ter make a feller bawl? ” 

Prue gasped; her eyes were staring at 
J oe, and her red lips were parted. 

The constable! Every child in the village 
knew and feared him. 


30 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


“Is he in — in — jaiZ?” she asked, so 
frightened that she could scarcely say the 
word. 

“Not yet,’’ whimpered Joe, “ but they’s 
no tellin’ haow soon he will be. The consta- 
ble took him, ’cause some er the winders in 
the school-haouse is smashed, an’ he just 
that Job done it; but he didn’t. He 
was pickin’ some blueberries, over behind 
the schoolhaouse, an’ he’d got his pail ’most 
full, when ol’ what-yer-call-him come an’ 
grabbed him by the collar, an’ said Job had 
been firin’ stones, an’ smashin’ the glass. 
Job hadn’t done it, an’ he said so, but he 
wouldn’t listen, an’ jest yanked him off, 
over ter Lawyer Everton’s.” 

“ But Lawyer Everton is good, just aw- 
ful good; Randy says so. He won’t hurt 
Job! ” said Prue. 

“ The constable said he’d make him say, 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


31 


right before Lawyer Everton, that he did 
bust the winders, and he’d say right off, 
‘ Take him ter jail I ’ ” 

Joe’s sobs hurst forth afresh. Prue’s 
brown eyes flashed. 

“I’m going right straight off to get Job 
for you. He sha 'n go to jail ! ” she cried. 

“ Oh, ye can’t,” said Joe. 

“ I will! ” said Prue, with a stamp of her 
little foot. 

Joe glanced at her. 

“ Well, whatever ye do, don’t ye dare tell 
ye seen me cry! ” he said, with flushing 
cheeks. 

“ No, I won’t ever tell,” she promised, 
and set off at top speed up the mill road. 

Her heart beat quicker at the thought 
that she might be late, and that Job might, 
even then, be on his way to the jail! 

How she ran! Her pink cheeks grew 


32 


PEUE’8 PLAYMATES 


pinker as she rushed along. A trailing vine 
reached out across the dusty road as if to 
trip her, but she saw it and skipped over it, 
but a second later she was forced to stop. 

<< There must be gravel in my shoe,” she 
said, sitting down to take it off. 

“ That’s it! ” she cried, shaking the of- 
fending pebbles out. 

“ Weren’t you mean to make me stop! ” 

It was a little slipper that she wore, al- 
though she always spoke of them as shoes. 

Quickly she thrust her foot into the slip- 
per, buttoned the strap at the ankle, and 
was off again, running even more swiftly 
than before. 

“ When I get past those big trees,” she 
panted, ‘‘I’m almost at his door-yard.” 

She walked a few steps to catch her 
breath, then again she commenced to run. 

Now she was in the gateway, now run- 



Her heart beat quicker at the thought that she might 

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1 



A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


33 


ning up the path, and then,— the door stood 
open, and there was Job ! Oh, he was not 
yet in jail! 

No fear had she of the grave, wise old 
lawyer. Had he not always a smile for her? 

She flew in at the doorway, ran across 
the room and straight to Lawyer Everton, 
who sat in his great chair with the fright- 
ened boy standing at his knee. 

“ Oh, don’t you do it! Don’t you do it! ” 
she cried, at the same time clasping his 
broad, strong hand with her two dimpled 
ones. 

<< Why, Prue, little girl, what is it? ” he 
asked, his kind eyes peering anxiously at 
her. 

She was breathless and excited. 

“It’s him, him! ” she cried, her eyes 
wide, and her red lips quivering. “ And his 
pail was ’most full of blueberries, so he 


34 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


couldn’t have smashed the windows, and 
you won’t say he’s got to go to jail, will 
you? ” 

“ Dear little friend,” the lawyer said, “ I 
would do almost anything for you, but do 
you know that Job is often a very naughty 
boy? Don’t you think that he ought to be 
punished? ” 

As he spoke, he smiled down into her ear- 
nest little face, and admired its beauty. 

‘‘ He ought to be punished on the days 
that he’s naughty,” she said, “ but this 
truly wasn’t one of the days. Job had been 
good, to-day, and the time that the windows 
were smashed was just the time Job 
couldn’t have smashed them! ” 

<< Why, my dear, could you prove that? ” 
Lawyer Everton asked, looking sharply at 
J ob, and then at Prue who was pleading so 
eagerly for him. 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


35 


“ Oh, I can! ” cried Prue, ‘‘ I can, for he’d 
filled his pail almost full of berries, and he 
couldn’t fire stones with a pail full of ber- 
ries, without spilling them, and he didn’t 
spill ’em, for I’ve seen the pail. Joe’s got 
it! ” 

“ Well, well, but that’s an argument! ” 
said Lawyer Everton. ‘‘ Don’t you think 
Job might have set his pail down so that he 
could throw the stones? ” 

Prue stared for a moment at the wise old 
eyes that looked so steadfastly into hers. 
Then she turned and sprang toward Job, 
who stood looking sullenly down at his toes, 
and frowning darkly. 

“ Oh, Job, Job! ” she cried, “ tell him you 
didn’t set that pail down, can’t you? I’ve 
run just miles to help you. Try to think. 
Job. Didn’t you hold on to that pail every 
minute? ” 


36 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ I did,’’ said Job, I never sot it daown 
once! ” 

“ And Jo&,” sbe pleaded, “ you don’t ever 
mean to be a naughty boy, do you? Don’t 
it just happen'? ” 

J ob nodded. 

“ Well, he’s a big, Mp lawyer man, and he 
can put anybody in jail if he wants to. Par- 
son Spooner, or me, or you, or any one; but 
you mean to be good, and you would be, if 
he’d just let you go this time, wouldn’t you. 
Job? ” 

“ P?nie, Prue,” said Lawyer Everton, 
geiitly, “ you mustn’t coax him against his 
will.” 

“ Oh, yes, I must,” insisted Prue, “ I just 
simply must! ” 

“ Now, Job, you listen,” she continued; 
“ if you’ll promise him you’ll be good,— 
really truly good,— I’ll let you sit side of me 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


37 


in Sunday school every Sunday for ever so 
long, and then perhaps, he’ll let you go.” 

‘‘ I will! ” said Job. '‘I didn’t fire them 
stones, an’ I didn’t bust them winders, an’ 
I’ll be good, if ye’ll let me go; I’ll be real 
good,— as long as I can hold out! ” 

“ He will, I’m sure he will! ” cried Prue, 
holding fast to Job’s sleeve, and looking up 
into the old lawyer’s face; “ and may he go 
now? I’ll walk home with him, and hold 
on to him so he can’t get into mischief on 
the way.” 

“ I think I shall have to let him oft this 
time,” said Lawyer Everton, “ but. Job,” 
he continued, “ Prue has been a good friend 
to you. Just think, lad, what a long way 
she ran to see me, and plead for you! If 
you are any kind of a boy, you’ll behave 
yourself for her sake.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Job. 


38 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


“ Do you realize what a good little friend 
she has been to you? ” was the next ques- 
tion, earnestly asked. 

Guess I do,” said Job, drawing his 
knuckles across his eyes, at the same time 
edging nearer to Prue. 

‘‘You may go, now,” said Lawyer Ever- 
ton. 

“ Thank you,” chirped Prue, and 

“ Thank ye,” said Job, in almost a whis- 
per. 

“ Come! ” said Prue, “ give me your 
hand, and all the way you’ll be good.” 

Without a word. Job, the boldest boy in 
the village, placed his rough hand in the 
soft one that Prue extended, and together 
they went down the garden path, Prue chat- 
tering words of comfort and cheer, while 
Job made a mighty effort to keep hack the 
tears. 


A FIRM LITTLE FRIEND 


39 


Tears of joy they were, for he had be- 
lieved that the doors of the jail were yawn- 
ing wide to receive him; for little Prue, his 
heart was very warm. 

Lawyer Everton stood in his doorway 
looking after them as they trudged down 
the road. 

The sunshine was very bright, but he 
shaded his kind, gray eyes with his hand 
and continued to watch them until they 
were out of sight. 

‘‘ If Job Butley could always have a little 
angel like that to guard his footsteps, he 
might some day become a noble man,” he 
murmured, as if he were thinking aloud. 

Out on the road, the two children skipped 
along, kicking up the dust in sheer delight 
because it seemed so fine a thing that Job 
was really free. 

On, on they hurried, and now they were 


40 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


running, for there, far ahead, sat discon- 
solate Joe, looking as if he had not a friend 
in the world. 

“Joe, Joe! ” shouted Prue, “ I’ve 
brought him. I said I would! ” 

Joe’s face showed wild delight. He 
sprang to his feet and ran to meet them. 
He grasped their hands, and forced them to 
dance around in a little ring. When they 
paused to regain their breath. Job told how 
Prue had plead for him, and finished by 
saying: 

“ She’s the best gal I know, an’ she’s 
promised to let me sit beside her in Sunday 
school fer ever and ever so long, ’cause I 
promised ter be good.” 

“ Then I must sit ’side of her, ’cause I 
mean ter see that ye keep yer promise,” de- 
clared Joe. 

“I’ve only two sides,” remarked Prue, 


A FIBM LITTLE FRIEND 


41 


“ and Johnny Buffum thinks he has to sit 
one side.” 

“ Then Johnny kin stop thinkin’,’’ said 
Job, “ fer ye said I could sit side of ye, ter 
help me ter be good, and Joe has jest got ter 
be near us, so as ter help keep me out’n 
scrapes, or mischief. Johnny kin take care 
of hisself! ” 

Prue did not know what to say, so she 
wisely said nothing; but she wondered if 
the Butley boys and Johnny Buffum would 
try to settle the question in Sunday school! 


CHAPTER III 

A LITTLE SCARECROW 

r I IHE long road that passed Squire Wes- 
ton’s door led straight to the Centre; 
to Silas Barnes’s store, and to the great 
stone drinking trough. The children 
thought the trough the most important of 
the three, and the small boys watched for 
chances to sail tiny boats upon its calm sur- 
face. 

Horses drank their fill while their owners 
gossiped in the store; and the birds, perch- 
ing upon its edge, drank little drafts of 
the cool water, pausing to tip their tiny 
heads heavenward, as if giving thanks for 
the treat. 


42 


A LITTLE 8CABECR0W 


43 


A flock of geese wandered out from tke 
squire’s gateway, and, following their 
leader, waddled across the road and down 
into the meadow, where tiny pools glistened 
in the sunlight. 

They quacked loudly as they ambled 
along, as if exulting that water could he 
found near at hand, without travelling so 
far as the Centre. 

“ Hear them, Philury! ” shouted Prue, 
“ hear them laugh! ” 

“ My, what an idea! ” said Philury, as 
she paused to listen. “ Why, Prue, they’re 
only quacking same as they always do.” 

“ Hear ’em now! ” insisted Prue. 

“ They say: ‘ Ha-ha, ha, ha ha! ’ and 
I tell you they’re laughing, and I’d like to 
know what for.” 

“ Go ask ’em! ” said Philury. 

‘‘ I will,” said Prue, and she ran after 


44 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


them, reaching the meadow just as the 
leader set his web foot in the soft mud of 
a little pool. 

The big white bird stood as still as if he 
had been told to do so. 

“ What were you laughing at? ” ques- 
tioned Prue, shaking her finger at him, and 
trying very hard not to laugh. 

He tipped his head, and looked at her with 
one round eye. 

“ If you were laughing at something, I’d 
like to know what it is,” said Prue. 

‘‘ Qua— a— ack! ” remarked the bird. 

“ Well, if you were just laughing at noth- 
ing, you were an old silly! ” she said. 

Carlie Shelton, hurrying along the road, 
looked nervously about as if afraid of some- 
thing that might follow her. 

Once she turned and looked behind her, 
then hurried on again. 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


45 


She was a little city girl who for a time 
had been living in the village; and while 
she loved the country for its beauty, and 
because her dear mother was growing 
stronger in its fresh, bracing air, there were 
some things which she could not become ac- 
customed to. 

“I do hope I sha’n’t meet those big 
geese,” she said, as she peeped over her 
shoulder again. 

“ The last time I came up here, they wad- 
dled along after me, making such a racket, 
and the big old leader made a horrid face at 
me and hissed like a cat.” 

She began to run, then doubled her speed, 
and soon had passed the squire’s house. 

“I’d have liked to stop to play with 
Prue,” thought Carlie, “ but I promised to 
hurry, and I’ve a long way to go, now.” 

Mrs. Shelton had given Carlie a note, and 


46 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


had told her to take it to a lady who was 
boarding at Deacon Spilkins’s farm. 

“ She is a dear friend of mine, and I am 
eager to have this note reach her early to- 
day, so do not play on the way, Carlie,” she 
had said, and Carlie had promised to go, 
and return promptly. 

“ I guess I’m safe from those geese,” 
Carlie murmured under her breath, “ and 
there was no sense in Bob Rushton’s laugh- 
ing at me when I said they opened their 
mouths so wide that they scared me. He 
said they weren’t mouths, but tills; but the 
hole between their bills is what they eat 
with, and if they eat with them, then why 
can’t I call them ‘ mouths ” 

There was no one near to answer Carlie ’s 
question. 

“ Bob can laugh if he wants to, but /’m 
not sure that those geese can’t bite. He 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


47 


says they can’t, but perhaps he doesn’t 
know. I know one thing,” she continued, 
“ when those creatures chased me, they 
waddled after me toeing in so that I won- 
der they didn’t tmnble over their own feet, 
and every goose had its mouth, I mean its 
bill, wide open. I climbed the wall, tripped, 
and fell in a heap on the other side, and I 
could hear the horrid things just screaming 
after me, all the way across the field.” 

Carlie was thinking aloud, and she began 
to run for fear that the geese might sud- 
denly appear at some point along the road- 
side. 

She remembered their wide, yawning 
bills, their angry hissing, and as she stepped 
up on to the lowest stone of the wall that 
bordered Deacon Spilkins’s pasture, she 
drew a long breath, for now, surely, she 
thought she was safe. 


48 


PRVE’8 PLAYMATES 


“Not a cow in the pasture,” she whis- 
pered, “ and I’m glad, for cows are twice as 
frightful as geese.” 

She paused on the top of the wall, looked 
around for a second, and then jumped down 
on the other side. 

The pasture lay all in sunlight, and be- 
yond, Carlie could see the apple orchard 
with its quaint, crooked old apple-trees, and 
between them, the farm buildings. 

She was skipping along, and humming a 
gay little tune, when— what was that? 
Something was moving over in some low 
bushes near the wall! 

She stopped, and stared at the spot where 
she felt sure that she had seen something 
or some one moving. 

She could not have told what she expected 
to see. 

There,— it was something behind those 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


49 


bushes, and there was a long rope being 
dragged along the grass! 

‘‘ It can^t be a goose,” thought Carlie, 
‘‘ for nobody would tie a rope to a goose,— 
or would they? Do folks ever? ” 

She could not answer the question for 
herself, and just at that moment the long 
tether was smartly twitched, and then,— a 
calf walked out from behind the bushes, 
and stared in amazement at the flying fig- 
ure. 

Every child in the neighborhood admired 
the pretty creature, and perhaps Carlie 
Shelton would have seen much beauty in it 
if only there had been a wall or fence be- 
tween the calf and her frightened little self. 

To have seen Carlie running, one might 
have thought that some wild animal had 
suddenly appeared, and was about to chase 
her. 


50 PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 

“ Go ’way! Go ’way! ” she shouted, still 
running, and not daring to look over her 
shoulder. 

At last, breathless, she was obliged to 
stop, and she was amazed to find that the 
calf was not chasing her. 

Indeed, it was quite as much surprised as 
she, and looked in mild wonder at the only 
child it had ever seen that did not stop to 
admire it. 

Oh, it’s turning its head, and looking 
right at me! ” she said, under her breath. 

“ Bob says cows hook you; I wonder 
what calves do. Oh, why doesn’t some one 
come along? ” 

As if in answer to her question, a merry 
whistle told that some one was near. 

‘‘ Hello, Carlie! ” 

Carlie turned, and flew toward the boy 
that had shouted so cheerily. 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


51 


“ Oh, Johnny Buffum! ” she cried, “ are 
you afraid of tJiat^ ” 

Johnny looked at her pointing finger, and 
then across the pasture. 

“ ’Fraid o’ what? That little critter? ” 
he asked. 

“ That calf is bigger than you are, and it 
looks real wild! ” 

“ So does aour old cat! ” Johnny declared 
in fine disgust. 

Carlie was too frightened to notice his 
actual words, or care what they were. She 
only felt that he might, if he chose, he a 
brave protector. 

“ Well, I’m awfully afraid of that calf, 
and if you arenH, you can walk across the 
pasture with me to Deacon Spilkins’s house, 
where I must take this note,” said Carlie. 

Johnny’s pride was touched. He knew 
that Carlie ’s fear was absurd, but she had 


52 


PBVE’8 PLAYMATES 


asked him to protect her, and he felt very 
brave and manly. 

He pushed his big straw hat still farther 
back upon his head, and swelled out his 
chest. Here was one girl that did not think 
him a little boy! 

“Ye jest come right along with me, an’ 
the calf won’t hurt ye! ” he said grandly. 

He did not think it necessary to say that 
it would not have molested her if she had 
been alone. 

Instead, he strutted along beside her in a 
manner that he thought must seem very 
brave, his little face puckered into a black 
frown, and his fists clenched as if he would 
gladly fight the calf, or the whole world if 
need be. 

Carlie glanced nervously over her shoul- 
der. 

“ Don’t look behind ye! ” he commanded; 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


53 


‘‘ if the critter fellers us, don’t ye be 
sheered, for I’ll— they’s no telUn’ what I’ll 
do! ” 

When, at last, after many a backward 
peep, they reached the deacon’s door, Carlie 
could hardly find words with which to thank 
him. 

Johnny was delighted with her praise, but 
he seemed to have suddenly become very 
bashful. 

“ Do wait just a moment,” Carlie said, 
“ for I want to tell Deacon Spilkins how 
brave you were.” 

“ Oh, I’d rather ye wouldn’t,” said 
Johnny, edging away; but Carlie caught 
hold of his sleeve, and the door opened just 
then, and Deacon Spilkins smiled down 
upon the two children. 

“ Oh, Deacon Spilkins! ” cried Carlie, 
“ Johnny doesn’t want me to tell you how 


54 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


brave he is, but I will! I might have been 
hooked, or something, if Johnny hadn’t 
come right along and walked beside me, just 
like a soldier, and kept the horrid thing 
from chasing me, and he wasn’t scared at 
all,— oh, I almost forgot. Here is a note 
that mamma wishes you to give to her friend 
who is boarding with you.” 

The good deacon peered at her a second, 
then he said: 

“ What’s all this about Johnny’s bein’ so 
brave? I didn’t know they was any wild 
critters in my pasture.” 

“ ’Twas a calf, and its eyes were so round 
when it stared at me—” began Carlie, but 
she could not say more, for the deacon’s 
hearty laughter forced her to stop, while 
Johnny’s face became decidedly red. 

Indeed, Deacon Spilkins laughed until his 
twinkling eyes were full of tears. 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


55 


“ So Johnny Bnffmn saved ye from that 
wild and fearful calf, did he? ” he asked, 
when at last he could speak. 

“ Well, I must say Johnny’s a brave lad. 
He knows that calves is sometimes reel fe- 
rocious! ” 

“ Ye needn’t roar at me because I’m lit- 
tler’n you be! When I’m as big as you. I’ll 
chase eV pliant s! ” roared Johnny, choking 
with rage, and forgetting that he should not 
speak thus to one so much older than him- 
self. 

“ There, there, little man! ” said the dea- 
con, kindly, “ ye’re a spunky little chap, and 
I wouldn’t wonder ef ye become a big man 
some day.” 

“ I will,” said Johnny, with what sounded 
much like a sob, for his pride had been 
rudely hurt. 

“I’ll be the postmaster, if I want ter! ” 


56 


PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 


he snapped, “ unless I change my mind and 
go on the trains ter be a paper boy like I 
seen daown ter the Centre! ” 

“ Good fer yer spunk! ” said the deacon, 
“an’ I’ll wish ye luck, whichever job ye 
tackle.” 

As a peace offering, he gave Johnny two 
big sweet apples, saying: 

“ There, Johnny, ye kin treat yer little 
lady; an’ fergive me fer laughin’.” 

“ I’ll do doth” said Johnny, and he 
promptly gave Carlie the larger apple. 

“ Johnny,” said the deacon, “ yer a 
manly little chap, an’ I can’t say that of 
every boy in the village. Fer one thing, yer 
generous, and yer quick ter fergive. Them 
two things will make ye a man we’ll be 
proud ter know.” 

“ Thank ye,” said Johnny, blushing with 
pleasure. 


A LITTLE 8GABEGB0W 


57 


As they walked along the road, eating 
their apples, Carlie was the first to speak. 

“ Deacon Spilkins thinks I needn’t have 
been afraid of that calf, but all the same, 
I’m glad we started home down this road, 
instead of crossing the pasture,” she said. 

“Well, ye knew I wasn’t afraid of the 
calf; that’s why I walked beside ye, so it 
couldn’t skeer ye,” Johnny replied. 

“ Well, you were good! ” said Carlie, 
“ and your sister Hitty said nobody ever 
had a brother half as good as you.” 

“ When did Hitty say that? ” Johnny 
asked, his blue eyes showing his delight. 

“ Yesterday,” said Carlie. 

“ Ma says I must be as nice to my sisters 
as to anybody else’s sisters, and I do try to 
be,” Johnny replied, “ but I didn’t know 
Hitty would say that.” 

“ Well, she did,” declared Carlie, “ and 


58 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


she said we couldn’t say it wasn’t so, and of 
course we couldn’t.” 

“ Ye’re a nice girl,” declared Johnny, 

almost as nice as Prue Weston! ” 

Carlie thought the comparison spoiled the 
compliment, but was far too polite to say so. 

As they passed the Weston house, they 
saw Philury standing by the well. 

“ Come on up! ” said Johnny. “ Let’s ask 
her ter sing for us. She knows lots of funny 
tunes, an’ most of ’em she makes up out of 
her head! ” 

“ Why, how could she? ” questioned Car- 
lie. 

She did. Come! Oh, wait for us, Phi- 
lury. Philury Flanders! Wait! ” Johnny 
shouted as if he thought the girl might be 
deaf. 

Philury turned, saw the children running 
toward her, and stood waiting. 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


59 


“ Land, but ye’re in a hurry! ” she said. 

“ I wanted to speak to ye before ye went 
in,” said Johnny, “ This is Carlie Shelton, 
and she hasn’t ever heard ye sing, and that’s 
what we’re here for. We want ye ter sing 
us a tune.” 

Philury was flattered. 

“ I donno what ter sing fer ye, an’ I’ve 
got a batch of work ter do, but I’ll sing ye a 
little song, an’ then I’ll hev ter go in,” she 
said. 

‘‘ Sing one ye hev to act aout,” Johnny 
demanded. 

“ All right,” she agreed, and this was the 
song that she chose to sing: 

The woodchuck is chuckin' ; 

The hop-toad is hoppin’, 

Look aout fer yer heads, 

Lest the sky should be droppin*. 

The billy-goat is billing 
The jay-bird is a-jayin*, 


60 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


^ Tis best, boys an' gals, 

Ter look aout what yer sayin'. 

Fer birds kin be sassy. 

An' brutes kin be cranky, 

But this is the land 

Of the bright, honest Yankee. 

So while they're a-screechin', 

A-hoppin', a-brayin'. 

We'll be reel perlite. 

An' we'll mind what we're sayin'." 

“ That’s great! ” declared Johnny, while 
Carlie could not remember ever having 
heard anything so droll. 

“Ye hopped jest like a hop-toad when ye 
sung that, an’ when ye looked up an’ clawed 
the air, I expected somethin^ would drop, if 
the sky didn’t! ” said Johnny. 

“ So did I,” declared Carlie, “ and will 
you sing for us again, some day? ” 

“ Indeed I will,” agreed Philury, well 
pleased that the children had so enjoyed her 
singing. 


A LITTLE SCARECROW 


61 


“ An’ the tune was as funny as the 
words,” said Johnny, as they turned toward 
home. 

“ It was a queer time,” said Carlie. 

“ She makes up all the tunes she sings, 
and that one sounded jest like critters 
a-sereechin’ an’ hootin’ like all time,” said 
Johnny, “an’ ain’t she got lungs'? My, but 
I’d like ter hear her an’ Jim Bullson singin’ 
together! ” 

“ Who is Jim Bullson? ” Carlie asked. 

“ Is he the Mr. Bullson that sings in the 
choir? ” 

“ That’s the one,” said Johnny, “ an’ he’s 
an awful smart singer. Why, when he does 
his best, ye can’t hardly hear anybody else 
singing, he makes such a racket! I tell ye 
if Jim an’ Philury was to sing in the meetin’ 
haouse, they’d h’ist the roof off, I bet ye! ” 


CHAPTER IV 

THE BIG FIDDLE 

A LITTLE group stood near the great 
willow tree that shaded the drinking 
trough, talking excitedly over what they 
seemed to think a matter of great impor- 
tance. 

“ Naow I say, his name is Alphonse Mif- 
kins, an’ ye should see him saw a fiddle! ” 
said Jeremy Gifford. 

Jeremy was small, but he was fifteen, and 
he felt that his opinion was important. 

“ Guess ye mean ‘ see him see a fiddle,’ 
don’t ye? ” questioned one of the group. 

“ No, I don’t,” Jeremy replied, “ I mean 
ye should see him saw a fiddle, for I tell ye 
62 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


63 


he kin make that ’ere bow fly across them 
strings so fast that his hair almost stands 
on end. He played ‘ The Campbells Are 
Cornin’,’ an’ ‘ The Wearin’ of the Green,’ 
an’ a whole string of tunes; an’ they do say 
he’s goin’ ter play at church, come Sun- 
day.” 

J eremy paused, and looked at the faces of 
his friends to see how this bit of news im- 
pressed them. 

Parson Spooner wouldn’t let him play 
such tunes as that in the meetin’ haouse,” 
objected Johnny Buffiun. 

Jeremy turned and stared at the small 
boy in disgust. 

“ ’Tisn’t likely he’ll play them tunes,” he 
said, “ but he kin play jigs, an’ ain’t it 
likely that he kin play somethin’ else? ” 

Johnny did not reply. He was just a 
bit afraid of the big boys, but he had opin- 


64 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


ions of Ms own, and he confided them to 
Hitty as soon as he reached home. 

“ Why, Johnny Buffum! Who ever heard 
of a fiddle squeakin’ in a meetin’ haouse? ” 
said Hitty. “ Parson Spooner wouldn’t let 
him bring that fiddle in, much less play on 
it! ” 

“ That’s what I said, but Jeremy Gifford 
says he is goin’ to play that fiddle on Sun- 
day, and everybody from Barnes’s store to 
Four Corners will want to hear it! ” 

“ An organ seems all right in church,” 
Hitty said, after a moment’s thought, “ but 
a fiddle seems— well, just a little lively; 
still, I want awfully to hear it.” 

‘‘ I wonder ye do,” said Johnny, ‘‘if ye 
truly think it’s so awful wicked.” 

“ I didn’t say wicked; I said lively, an’ 
that’s not the same; and I want to hear it 
so, I’d go with this old dress on, an’ bare- 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


65 


foot, too, if I couldn’t hear that fiddle any 
other way. It seems a long time to wait 
for Sunday? ” 

‘‘ Well, ye don’t listen with yer feet, so 
ye kin wear yer new shoes, an’ yer dress 
won’t make any difference,” Johmiy re- 
plied. 

“ What bothers me Sunday mornings is 
that ma is in such a rush that when she 
washes my face she ’most always gets soap 
in my eyes. Then she can’t wait for me ter 
get it aout, ’fore she slops a whole brush full 
of water on to my hair, an’ some of it runs 
daown my neck.” 

“ Your hair ain’t long ’nough to run 
down your neck,” interrupted Hitty, laugh- 
ing. 

“ The water she uses is long enough, an’ 
last Sunday when she slopped it on top of 
my head, it did run daown my neck, an’ 


66 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


some of it kept right on runnin’ till it 
reached my boots.” 

Why, Johnny Buffum! That can’t be 
true! ” 

“ Well, it is true, an’ I wish I’d shown ye 
my wet stockin’. I tell ye, ma just soaks 
my hair! ” said Johnny. 

But you look almost han’some when 
you’re dressed up, but when you’re not, you 
look ’bout like other boys! ” 

Johnny at once decided to submit to any 
amount of soap and water if it produced 
such wonderful results. 

And while the little Buffums were talking 
of the possible joy of hearing a violin at 
church, Prue was quite as eagerly talking 
of the very same thing, but her views were 
quite different from Hitty’s. 

She had gone over to Randy’s house soon 
after breakfast, to tell the news. 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


67 


“ Just think, Eandy,” she was saying; 
“ a fiddle! A squeaky fiddle in church! ’’ 

‘‘ Call it a violin, Prue,” Randy said, 
smiling. 

“ But the boys called it a ‘ fiddle,^ and 
Jeremy Gifford says the man that plays it 
is a great player,” said Prue. 

“ If he is a fine musician, it will be a treat 
to hear him,” Randy replied. 

“ Yes, indeed, and I want to be in the 
meetin’ house early, because I mean to hear 
the very first note he plays.” 

Randy had been gathering some flowers, 
and was arranging them in jars and vases. 
She was very happy, and very proud of her 
new home, and she loved to deck the rooms 
with flowers, choosing always those that 
were most fragrant. 

She was placing a low vase filled with 
geraniums and mignonette, upon the man- 


68 


PBUE’S PLAYMATES 


tel, when an odd little solo caused her to 
pause and listen. 

'^Squeak, squeak, squeaky, squeak! 

Hear my little fiddle speak! 

Squeak, squeak, squeaky, squeak, 

Squeaky, squeaky, squawk! ” 

Prue, sitting upon the low seat just out- 
side the door, was using a huge burdock leaf 
for a violin, drawing a long flower stem 
across it for a bow, and singing in place of 
the music which the leaf violin could not 
produce. 

Hearing Randy’s footstep, she looked up. 

“ Squawk doesn’t rhyme with squeak, 
does it? ” she asked. 

“ It isnH what most people would call a 
rhyme,” said Randy; and Prue saw that 
she was laughing. 

“ Do you think my green Addle funny? ” 
she asked. 



Prue was using a huge burdock leaf for a violin. — Page 68 




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TEE BIG FIDDLE 


69 


“ I certainly never saw one like it,” 
Randy replied. 

I used this big leaf because I couldn’t 
find anything else that was anywhere near 
the shape of a fiddle.” 

“ And you look very nice playing upon 
it,” said Randy, “ but I’ve something to 
show you that will please you far more than 
your burdock fiddle. Come! It is a little 
gift from Jotham. You know he is your 
big brother now.” 

‘‘ I know he is, and I love him dearly. 
Oh, what did he buy for me? ” cried Prue, 
dancing along beside Randy as they passed 
through the hall to the pretty dining room. 
Latticed windows were shaded from the hot 
sun by green vines which hung from the 
trellises that framed the windows. 

“ Oh, is it hidden in your china closet? 
Is it, Randy? ” 


70 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Kandy stooped to kiss the eager little 
face, then opened the glass doors. 

“ This is the gift,” she said, as she placed 
a little tray upon the table. 

“ Oh, oh, what a dear, dear tea set! ” 
cried Prue, wild with delight at the sight of 
the dainty dishes. 

There were borders of turquoise-blue and 
gold on all the pieces, with tiny bouquets of 
pink roses scattered upon the dishes, the 
painted blossoms looking as perfect as if 
they were flowers that had just opened to 
the sunlight. 

“ Mine, Randy? Are they truly mine? ” 
asked Prue. 

‘‘ Truly yours, dear,” Randy replied, 

and you can play tea-party here as often 
as you choose. Jotham said that he pur- 
chased that tea set so that you might feel 
very sure that his home, and mine, is also 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


71 


partly yours. You play tea-party at home 
with the dishes that you have always had, 
and here in my china closet will be a little 
tea set, waiting for you to come and play 
with it here.” 

“ Oh, isn’t Jotham just the nicest boy? ” 
said Prue, exactly as she would have spoken 
of a boy of her own age. 

However, Randy agreed that Jotham was 
nearly perfect, and Prue at once declared 
that no little girl ever had so nice a brother. 

“ Hitty has a brother, and he is really 
quite nice,” chirped Prue, ‘‘ but you mar- 
ried Jotham, and you wouldn’t have mar- 
ried Johnny if he’d been big enough to ask 
you, would you? ” 

That was surely a comical question, but 
Randy was not obliged to answer it, for just 
at that moment Janie McLeod tapped at the 
door; and when she had told her errand. 


72 


PRliE’S PLAYMATES 


Prue insisted upon showing the beautiful 
tea set, and she quite forgot that her ques- 
tion had received no reply. 

Of course, Janie was delighted with it, 
and promised to take tea with Prue on a 
day when Mrs. McLeod could spare her. 

Prue walked along toward home with 
Janie, and at the gate paused to talk with 
her. 

“ Can you sing as high as a fiddle can 
squeak, Janie? ” asked Prue. 

‘‘ Why, no one could,” said Janie, with a 
merry laugh. 

“ But Johnny BufEum said that you could 
sing to high C,” said Prue. 

“ And so I can,” Janie replied, “ but 
think how high the violin can run! ” 

“ Run! Run, did you say? ” cried Prue. 
“ Why, who ever saw a fiddle running? ” 

How Janie laughed; and Hitty Buffmn, 


TEE BIG FIDDLE 


73 


who had been hurrying after them, now 
joined them, and questioned them as she 
always questioned any one when she did not 
quite understand. 

“ Janie said fiddles could run, and I said 
‘ who ever saw one running? ’ ” 

“ Well, I guess the one I saw this morn- 
ing down to the Centre could run if it had 
legs, for it was as big as Deacon Spilkins’s 
calf! ’’ 

“ Why, Hitty Buffum! ” 

Prue’s eyes were round with surprise. 
She knew that Hitty was truthful, but was 
there ever a violin as huge as that? 

Janie had gone into the house in response 
to a call from Sandy, and Prue could only 
ask Hitty again if she was sure of what she 
said. 

“ Of course I’m sure,” declared Hitty, 
‘‘ didn’t I see it ? An’ I tell you truly, Prue, 


74 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


the fat man that had it lugged it on his 
shoulders! ” 

Prue actually gasped, and the two little 
girls stood staring at each other. 

“ Where was he going with it? The big 
fiddle, I mean,” said Prue. 

‘‘ I don’t know where he was going this 
morning; I couldn’t stop to watch him, for 
I had to do an arrant for Aunt Blifkins 
what’s stayin’ at our haouse, but I’ll tell 
you what Bob Rushton told Johnny. I’m 
’most afraid to tell it aloud, so I guess I’ll 
whisper it,” said Hitty. 

There certainly was no one near to listen, 
but Hitty had said that she must whisper it, 
and that made Prue very eager to hear. 

Hitty grasped Prue’s curly head firmly in 
her chubby hands, and in a very loud whis- 
per told what Bob had said. 

<< Why— ee! ” cried Prue, “ did Bob say 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


75 


that big, fat man would dare to bring that 
big fiddle right into the church, and make 
loud music on it? ” 

‘‘He’s goin’ to, an’ Bob says he heard 
him tunin’ it, an’ it sounded just perfectly 
awful. He said the man got red in the face 
tightenin’ up the strings, an’ when he drew 
the bow across ’em, it sounded like the big- 
gest bullfrog you ever heard! ” said Hitty, 
“an’ Johnny is wild to hear it, an’ this is 
only Thursday, an’ he’ll have to wait ’til 
Sunday.” 

“ P’raps it won’t sound like bullfrogs 
Sunday,” ventured Prue hopefully. 

“ Johnny’ll be dis ’pointed if it doesn’t,” 
said Hitty, “ for he thinks it’s going to jest 
hoot. He says so! ” 

The children were not more curious than 
their elders in regard to the music for Sun- 


76 


PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 


day, and although every one was early, and 
promptly seated, the two musicians were 
already in their places, and softly tuning 
their instruments. 

It was an odd happening that the violinist 
was slender like his instrument, while the 
other man was short and exceedingly stout, 
and the proud possessor of a big bass viol, 

“ Don’t he look han’some? ” asked 
Johnny, who ardently admired the stout 
man. 

“ Which? ” whispered Hitty. 

Which? ” repeated Johnny in disgust. 
Why, the fat man, of course. That other 
with the little fiddle is a regular skinny, but 
the big bull fiddle is el’gant shape, an’ the 
fat man looks jest like it! ” 

Hitty giggled. 

“ Wkat ye laughin’ at? ” whispered 
Johnny; “ I tell ye I mean ter be a big man 


TEE BIG FIDDLE 


77 


when I grow up, an’ I will if I hev ter eat a 
barrel full of stuff a day ter do it.” 

Instead of giggling this time, Hitty 
laughed outright; and Mrs. Buffum gave 
her a mild shake, and a look that assured 
her that she would stop laughing, or per- 
haps be told to go home! 

Hitty made a desperate effort to behave 
properly, and for fear that Johnny might 
say something even funnier, she made 
Sophy sit between Johnny and herself. 

Johnny saw nothing amusing in what he 
had said, and wondered why Hitty had 
laughed, and why she had changed places 
with Sophy. 

“ Girls are queer! ” he whispered. 

At last, when it seemed as if every mem- 
ber of the little parish had arrived, dear old 
Parson Spooner arose, his pleasant face 
wreathed with smiles, for he believed that 


78 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


lie had secured a musical treat with which 
all would be delighted. 

After the prayer and reading, he an- 
nounced that Janie McLeod, accompanied 
by violin and bass viol, would sing ‘‘ Ave 
Maria.” 

Oh, was ever a voice more tender, more 
liquidly sweet? 

Janie’s fair hair seemed like a halo, as a 
slanting sunbeam touched it, and her ©yes 
told that music was, indeed, her soul’s de- 
light. 

How they listened! How they marvelled 
that, as with one accord, the strings and 
the human voice filled the little church with 
melody; sweet melody that touched their 
hearts. 

All were impressed, but Johnny Buffum 
was astounded! 

“ Who’d ever b’lieve them fellers could 


THE BIG FIDDLE 


79 


play jigs on tlieni fiddles when they want 
ter, an’ music that makes ye almost hold yer 
breath an’ nearly cry, any time they 
choose! ” he whispered softly to Sophy. 

Sophy, her eyes staring, and her lips 
parted, did not hear Johnny’s whispered 
comment, and Johnny settled down in his 
seat to think over the wonder of that music. 

The sermon was long, and the greater 
part of it the children could not understand. 

Carlie Shelton spent the hour tying and 
untying the ribbons at her belt, in an effort 
to make a finer bow; while Bob Rushton 
tried to keep her mind upon the sermon. 

“ Parson says ‘ love yer neighbor,’ ” he 
whispered, “an’ Carlie, I’m yer neighbor,” 
and he nudged her, at the same time blush- 
ing a fiery red. 

“ I’ve ever so many neighbors,” was Car- 
lie’s whispered reply; and without a look 


80 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


at Bob she contiaued playing with her rib- 
bons. 

Prue leaned against Randy, and drowsily 
whispered: “ I love every one; most of all, 
you.” 

She had heard the theme of the sermon, 
and although she was very sleepy, it had 
found its way to her tender little heart. 

Johnny BufEum was much moved, but not 
by sentiment. 

He looked very thoughtful, and indeed he 
was pondering over a mighty question. 

“ I’ll be a hig man,” he whispered softly, 
“ but I wish I knew whether I’d rather toot 
on a horn, or saw on a bull fiddle.” 


CHAPTER V 

THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 

^‘^ARLIE SHELTON has lived here a 
long time, now,” said Prue, “ and 
ever since she came here from the city, 
we’ve called her the ‘new little girl.’ ” 

“ I know it,” agreed Hitty, “an’ she still 
seems kind of new.” 

“ Well, she w,” said Prue, “ but there’s 
to be somebody newer in this town next 
week! ” 

“ My! ” exclaimed Hitty, “ who is it? ” 

“You know who Miss Helen Dayton is, 
don’t you? ” 

No, Hitty didn’t remember. 

“ Why, you do,” insisted Prue; “ she is 
81 


82 


PBUE’S PLAYMATES 


the lovely girl my Randy visited twice in 
Boston; and now she’s married, and she’s 
Mrs. Helen Dayton Harden, and she’s just 
come to visit Randy and Jotham.” 

“ Oh, I know,” said Hitty, “ she’s the one 
that had a grand house, and gave a big party 
for Randy.” 

“Yes, that’s just who she is,” agreed 
Prue, “ and she has brought a little girl 
with her.” 

“ Whose little girl? ” questioned Hitty. 

“ She’s Mr. Harden ’s little niece, and her 
name is Clare Harden. Randy says she is 
very rich,” concluded Prue. 

“ I didn’t know that little girls were ever 
rich,” said Hitty. “ Where did she get her 
money? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Prue replied, “ but it 
must be true; Randy said it to Aunt Pru- 
dence, and she said that Jotham told her.” 


TEE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 83 


“ If she’s very rich,” said Hitty, “ she 
may have as much as three dollars and a 
half, S’pose she has? ” 

“ That wouldn’t be rich! ” declared Prue. 

‘‘ I don’t know,” said Hitty doubtfully. 

Last week, Sophy an’ Johnny an’ me all 
needed boots, an’ they cost three dollars, an’ 
Ma said that was a good deal of money; so 
I said if the little girl was very rich, p’raps 
she had as much as three dollars an’ a half, 
all to her own self.” 

Prue had but little idea of what wealth 
actually meant, but she knew that Hitty did 
not understand at all, and she would not try 
to explain. 

Randy had not intended what she had 
said for childish ears, nor did she dream 
that Prue had heard it. She wished to have 
Prue and all her merry friends become ac- 
quainted with little Clare Marden, and. 


84 


PBUE’S PLAYMATES 


oddly enougli, not one of the silly stories 
that sped around the town reached Kandy’s 
ear. 

Hitty repeated what Prue had said, and 
Johnny and Sophy listened with attention, 
hut in some way the story became tangled. 

So J ohnny told it as he understood it, and 
Jeremy Gifford, when he repeated it, told 
it a little larger; Jeremy told it to Tom 
Thompson, who, in turn, told it to Merilla 
Burton. 

This is the size of the story as Merilla told 
it to Mrs. Hodgkins, whom she happened to 
meet. 

They do say there’s a little girl staying 
at Randy’s house, some relation to Mrs. 
Helen Dayton Marden, that city girl, ye 
know, an’ the child is so rich that they have 
to lug a big iron safe ’round with ’em to 
carry her money an’ jewelry in! ” 


THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 85 

Merilla paused to regain breath. 

“ Land o’ Goshen! ” ejaculated Mrs. 
Hodgkins, ‘‘ why, Merilla, be ye sure that’s 
sol” 

“ Well, if you ain’t sure, ask the fust 
child ye meet. They’re full of it! ” 

That satisfied Mrs. Hodgkins, and she 
trudged off at high speed to find some one 
to whom she could tell the great tale. 

Hitty Buffum told it to Sophy, and Sophy 
told it to Phonic Jenks. Phonic repeated it 
to Jim Simpson, and by the time Jim had 
told it to a half dozen others, it commenced 
something like the original story, and ended 
like an entirely new one. 

“ Wal, here’s the yarn, as I heard it,” 
said Joel Simpkins, as he was weighing a 
quarter of a pound of butter for a customer, 
and putting his finger on the scale lest the 
butter might seem to be light weight. 


86 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Tell it! ” said liis customer. 

“It’s the little gal that’s visitin’ Randy, 
an’ they say she’s wealthy; not some 
wealthy, but ’mensely wealthy, an’ her ten 
trunks what she brung with her is full of 
rich clothes that an ord’nary child would 
be ’fraid ter wear, fer fear of spilin’ of 
’em.” 

A story told and retold many times in a 
country town, not only becomes stretched 
beyond its original size, but it influences 
those who listen, and often causes unpleas- 
ant feeling where none should have existed. 

Not only the older people, but the chil- 
dren were much excited, and when Prue 
told Hitty that Randy was to give a little 
party for her little guest, Hitty actually 
gasped. 

“ A party! Why, what’ll we wear? ” she 
asked. 


THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 87 


“ Why, clothes,’^ cried Prue, as if Hitty 
were losing her senses. 

“ Of course,” said Hitty. 

Hitty did not say what she thought, but 
when she reached home, she searched her 
tiny closet, and decided that she had noth- 
ing that could he worn to greet the rich little 
girl. 

“ Haow, Hitty,” said Mrs. BufEum, he 
the sensible little gal ye’ve always been; go 
ter the party in yer best frock, an’ don’t 
fret because ye ain’t rich,” 

It was good advice and Hitty decided to 
abide by it, but she could not help wonder- 
ing what the “ newest ” little girl would 
w^ear. 

“ It’ll be something shiny, I know,” she 
confided to Johnny, but Johnny’s reply was 
not especially comforting. 

Girls are queer,” he said, “ ’n I’m glad 


88 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


boys are different. When I’m goin’ to a 
party, I’m glad first that I’ve got the 
chance, an’ next I wonder what the 
spread’ll be, but I don’t waste a minute 
thinkin’ ’baout clothes.” 

Ann and Sophy were also invited, and, 
with Hitty, they talked of their scanty 
wardrobes. 

Phonie Jenks was, perhaps, more excited 
than any of her playmates. She had no sis- 
ters with whom she could talk of the party 
that would occur just a week from that day. 

In her little attic chamber, she looked 
again and again at her one best dress, turn- 
ing it this way and that. 

“ It isn’t very fine,” she said, “ but it 
looks as well as most of ’em will,” which 
was, indeed, a wise conclusion. 

She felt, however, that something un- 
usual should be done. If the new little girl 


TEE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 89 


was to be richly dressed, with costly silk, 
lace, and jewels, how could they meet her 
looking as they usually looked? 

Phonie spent long hours before the glass, 
twisting, braiding, and even trying to curl 
her straight hair that stubbornly refused to 
kink, or curl, or even to stay braided, until 
she was almost in despair. 

“ What shall I do with it? ” she cried one 
day, after having worked upon it until her 
arms ached. 

“ I b’lieve I’ll put some molasses on it, 
and then do it up on papers. That ought 
to make it stay curled instead of hoppin’ 
off the papers just as fast as I can twist it 
on.” 

“ What ye after, Phonie? ” called her 
aunt, as Phonie tipped the molasses jug 
over on its side. 

Mrs. Jenks had followed her into the 


90 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


closet, however, and saw what she was do- 
ing. 

“ What do ye want it for? ” she asked. 

“ To put on my hair to make it curl! ” 
said Phonie. 

“ Of all the notions! Well, I can’t let ye 
do that. Don’t ye know it would make a 
mess of yer dress? What on airth put such 
an idea into yer head? ” 

Phonie was desperate. 

“ Ain’t I goin’ to the party? ” she asked, 
with flashing eyes. 

“ An’ must ye gum yer hair with m ’lasses 
’til ye look like a wild Injine? ” questioned 
Mrs. Jenks. 

‘‘I’m yer aunt, an’ I’d like yer ter go ter 
the party lookin’ civ’lized,” she continued, 
“an’ why ye think ye must make yer hair 
look like all time, I don’t see.” 

“ My hair looks outrageous all the time,” 


THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 91 


wailed Phonie, “ an’ I thought I’d just try 
to make it a bit fine for the party. The rich 
little girl will look perfec’ly el’gant, of 
course.” 

“ Phonie, you was named fer me, Eu- 
phony Ann Jenks, an’ I hope some good 
sense came ter ye with the name. I’ll do 
up yer Simday-go-ter-meetin’ dress, an’ if 
ye must hev yer hair curled. I’ll put some 
sugar an’ water on it, an’ tie it up in rags, 
an’ I guess that’ll kink it. I shouldn’t won- 
der if it stuck aout in frizzles like the hair 
on them Fiji critters the missionaries tell 
us of I ” 

“ Oh, I’m tickled to have it curled, and 
I don’t care if I look perfectly wild! Any- 
thing is better than to go to a party looking 
just every day! ” 

Dear old Sandy McLeod had his little 
joke regarding the party. 


92 


PBUE’S PLAYMATES 


Janie had told him of the children’s ex- 
citement, and of their great anxiety lest 
they should be too plainly dressed. 

When Hitty Buffum and Phonie Jenks 
passed him, as he stood in his gateway, he 
called to them to stop. 

“ What’s a’ this I hear aboot the fine 
party, an’ the little lady it’s given for? ” 

“ Oh, Sandy,” said Hitty, “ we’re going 
to look like little country girls, an’ she’s a 
city child, so, of course, she’ll look grand! ” 
“ To be sure, to be sure! ” Sandy replied, 
gravely, ‘‘an’ tho’ I’m told they don’t keep 
her in a gold cage, I’m nae sure but she’ll 
wear her hair piled high on top o’ her wee 
head, an’ a satin train, wi’ gold lace on it! ” 
Sandy raised his hands, and let them 
drop, as if overpowered with the thought of 
the little girl’s magnificence, at the. same 
time shaking his head wisely. 


TEE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 93 


“ Oh, Sandy! You don’t s’pose that, do 
you? ” 

Sandy’s kindly eyes twinkled. 

“ I said I was nae sure, as I’d nae seen 
her,” he replied, “ but I doubt not she’s 
verra, verra grand! ” 

They knew that the jolly old Scotchman 
was only teasing them, yet his words had 
strengthened their first thought that who- 
ever might joke about it, the fact remained 
that the little Boston girl was, without 
doubt, a very dainty person. 

“Ye’re a set o’ bonny little lassies,” he 
called after them, “an’ braw an’ rosy ye’ll 
look beside any city child.” 

“ Sandy’s real kind, and he likes us just 
as we are, but I think we look anything but 
fine. Somebody said city folks aren’t ever 
fat, an’ see how round we are!” said 
Phonie. “ My waist is pretty big, an’ I’m 


94 


PRVE’8 PLAYMATES 


’most sure yours is bigger. Let’s meas- 
ure! ” 

“ I don’t want to,” objected Hitty; 
“ what’s the use in measurin’? I’m just as 
big as I aw, an’ I can’t make myself any 
skinnier, but what I do wish is that I could 
get something lovely to wear.” 

It was fortrmate that the party was not 
postponed. Not one of the little invited 
guests could have endured one day more of 
hoping, fearing, and anticipating. 

For in spite of the thought that they were 
to be plainly dressed, they really longed for 
that party! 

Small wonder that they were eager for it, 
—it was the first party that any child in the 
village had ever attended! 

The day dawned bright and sunny, and 
the forenoon was almost endless, for the 
hour named in the invitation was three; 


THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 95 

and all those hours between sunrise and 
three must be endured before the joy of the 
party might be tasted. 

Phonie Jenks, her head covered with 
countless little knobs tied with cotton rags, 
was in almost a fever to know just how her 
usually straight hair would look when those 
rags were untied. 

“ Do you s’pose it’ll curl? ” she had 
asked at least twenty times that morning. 

“ CurU ” said Mrs. Jenks, “ I wouldn’t 
be s ’prised if it curled like all-possessed! ” 

“ Oh, I hope so! ” cried Phonie. “ Can’t 
I have it combed out now? It’s almost half 
past one.” 

‘‘ I guess I might as well do it, fer fear ye 
hev a fit waitin’,” was the quick reply. 

Phonie ran for the comb, and her aunt 
began to untie the rags. How that hair did 
kink! It looked like corkscrews when the 


96 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


rags were removed; but when tbe comb was 
passed through them, no words could de- 
scribe the manner in which the woolly mass 
stood out. 

My senses! Why, Phonie, ye look ac- 
tually wild! ” said Mrs. Jenks; but Phonie 
could not see that it might, in any way, be 
improved. 

Oh, don’t smooth it down,” she cried, 
throwing up her arms to shield it. 

“ But ye can’t go with it standin’ every 
way of a Sunday! ” 

‘‘Yes, I can, I want to! ” screamed 
Phonie, in fear that her aunt might use 
water to calm her now wildly curling 
tresses. 

“ Wal, of all the notions! ” said Mrs. 
Jenks; “ at least hev a comb in it, or a rib- 
bon ter tie it! ” but Phonie refused to be 
thus ornamented. 


TEE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 97 


She had always longed for curling hair, 
and now that it had been curled, nothing 
should smooth or quiet its kinks and crimps. 

It was with great delight that she started 
for Randy’s house to meet the “ newest ” 
little girl, and enjoy the party. 

No guests were ever more prompt. As 
the clock hand touched three, every child 
who had been invited turned in at the 
driveway gate, and with timid eyes scanned 
the house, to catch just a glimpse of the 
wonderful city child. 

Randy, with Prue, stood waiting to greet 
them, and to invite them into the cool, long 
parlor. 

The house was fine and its furnishings 
tasteful, for Jotham and Randy now pos- 
sessed a fortune, and the children looked 
around with staring eyes, and wondered at 
the beauty of all that they saw. 


98 


PBUE’S PLAYMATES 


The girls’ dresses were stifQy starched, 
and the small boys had the air of being 
“ dressed up,” and therefore rather uncom- 
fortable. Johnny looked at Prue, in the 
same pretty frock that she had worn at 
Randy’s wedding, and he believed that no 
one was ever so fair. 

The Butley twins, Joe and Job, had 
chosen to sit on one chair, their small green 
eyes looking sharply at the other children, 
their stiff collars all but choking them. 

Randy had at first intended to have little 
Clare in the parlor when the children ar- 
rived, but when she heard some of the silly 
stories that were being circulated, she de- 
cided to let the little guests find seats in the 
parlor, and then lead Clare in to greet them. 

“ You have come to meet my little guest, 
and she is very eager to see you all, so I will 
bring her to you, and then, when each of 


THE NEWEST LITTLE GIRL 99 


you has spoken to her, we will enjoy some 
games.” 

A buzz of whispering voices followed 
Eandy as she left the room, and their eyes 
eagerly followed her. 

Quickly she returned, leading by the 
hand a little girl whose gentle face at once 
charmed them all. 

A frail little creature she seemed, her 
light flaxen hair framing her small, white 
face; her slender form, her small, white 
throat, her tiny hands and feet, all told how 
delicate a child she must be. 

A pale-blue ribbon tied her hair, but it 
was her only ornament. 

Her simple white frock was of finest tex- 
ture, and its only trimming was the dainty 
lace that edged the neck and sleeves. 

“You are already well acquainted with 
my little sister, Prue, but now you must 


100 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


know her merry little playmates. Hitty, 
will you come and meet this little girl? ” 

Hitty was all courage. This was the little 
girl of whom she had been afraid! She 
walked promptly to where Clare was stand- 
ing. 

“ This is Clare Harden; and this, Clare, 
is a new friend for you; she is Hitty Buf- 
fum.” 

The white little hand grasped Hitty ’s 
tanned one, and the pale little face looked 
up into Hitty ’s dark eyes. 

“I’m glad to know you, Hitty,” she said; 
“ truly glad,” she added. 

Hitty was delighted. 

“ You’re dear,” she replied, “ and I’m 
glad I came.” 


CHAPTER VI 

THE PARTY 

TOHKNT BUFEUM, charmed with the 
^ greeting that his sister had received, 
waited for no invitation, hut rushed boldly 
forward to offer his rough little hand. 

'‘I’m jest as glad to know ye as Hitty 
is! ” he said. 

“You must be a nice boy to know,” said 
Clare, and Randy smiled to see how ready 
was her reply. 

Phonie Jenks and Sophy Buffum came 
next, and each received a sunny smile, and 
a sweet word that made them feel at ease. 

The child that knew so well how to gra- 
ciously receive her little city friends, 
101 


102 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


seemed quite as well to know how best to 
greet the little people of the country village. 
She wished to give pleasure. 

The Butley twins thought that, as they 
were twins, they must on all occasions ap- 
pear together. 

Joe thrust his hand through Job’s arm, 
together they slid from the chair to the 
floor, and then marched bravely up to the 
little girl. They did not wait to be intro- 
duced. 

One of us is Joe, an’ one is Job,” an- 
nounced Joe, “ guess which of us is 
which? ” 

“ Oh, I could never guess,” said Clare, 
“ which are you? ” and she gave a soft little 
laugh. 

“ I’ll tell you, but I wouldn’t tell anybody 
else. I’m Joe, an’ he’s Job. An’ we’ll play 
real nice with ye, but we won’t be rough. 


THE PARTY 


103 


’cause ye look as if ye’d break easy, like 
Ma’s best cMny.” 

Again the soft peal of silvery laughter 
rang out, and Helen and Randy were de- 
lighted to see Clare so happy. 

Randy had told her that the children 
whom she would meet would be very dif- 
ferent from her own little playmates at 
home, and that they would be plainly 
dressed, because the greater number of 
them could not have pretty frocks. 

“ Oh, let me wear my plainest frock,” 
Clare had quickly said, “ then they will feel 
happier, and so shall I.” 

Dear little girl! She had no wish to wear 
a showy dress if thus she might mar the 
pleasure of other, more plainly dressed chil- 
dren. 

“ A party is to make people happy, and 
those other little girls could not be quite as 


104 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


cheerful, if I am dressed much finer than 
they.” 

It was the kind, thoughtful heart of a true 
little lady that caused Clare to choose her 
simplest costume. 

She was delighted to find them all so glad 
to meet her. And when all the little guests 
had greeted her, Mrs. Harden and Randy 
helped them to play some lively games. 

There was “ post-office ” with many let- 
ters for all, but an especially large number 
for Clare. Then, on the green carpet,” 
another country game; then “ hunt the slip- 
per; ” ‘‘ button, button; ” “ follow the 
gander; ” until all were glad to rest for a 
time. 

How eagerly the little city girl had en- 
tered into all the games! A faint pink 
tinged her cheeks, and her eyes grew bright 
with excitement. 


THE PARTY 


105 


It had been a pretty sight, the eager, 
romping children, the fair, frail-looking 
guest, and, prettiest of all, the care with 
which the big boys guarded her. 

Even in the most exciting part of the 
games, Clare was not pushed about, and she 
felt and appreciated their kindness to her. 

Eandy and Helen had believed that the 
children would enjoy their spread out of 
doors; so while the merry games were in 
progress, they had slipped from the room, 
and with the aid of Randy’s maid and Phi- 
lury, who had loaned herself for the occa- 
sion, they soon had a long table set under 
shady trees. 

How tempting it looked! 

There was ice cream in plenty, huge 
plates of cake, platters of chicken sand- 
wiches, and nuts and bonbons of every de- 
scription. 


106 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Call them, now,” said Randy; and Phi- 
lury ran up to the house. 

“ Come out ter the spread,” she an- 
nounced, “ and come like little ladies an’ 
gentlemen! ” 

“ Clare’s pretty tired,” said Prue, 
“ couldn’t you and Job take her, as you 
sometimes take me? ” 

“ Guess we can! ” cried Joe, and before 
Clare could ask how that might be, the But- 
ley twins had made a fine lady’s-chair. 
Johnny helped her into it, and with her 
arms about their shoulders, she rode in style 
to the feast, the others filing behind them, 
singing and whistling “ Hail, Columbia, 
Happy Land.” 

Across the lawn, along the path, over the 
brook they went, Clare riding like a little 
queen. 

They placed her at the head of the table. 


THE PARTY 


107 


and took their places on either side of her. 
Then the feast began. 

The good things vanished like magic. 
Johnny said he meant to eat all the ice 
cream he could before it melted. 

Hitty thought that at the rate that he was 
eating it, there soon would be none to melt. 

How cool and shady it seemed; the leaf- 
shadows flickering upon the white damask 
cloth, the faint murmuring of the brook, the 
liquid notes of the birds, the scent of flow- 
ers,— little Clare clasped her hands, and 
paused to listen, and look about her. 

“ Oh, it is so beautiful here! ” she said, 
with a happy little sigh; “ so beautiful that 
it seems like fairyland! ” 

“ I never had a spread out of doors,” she 
continued, “ and the parties indoors in the 
city aren’t half as nice as this.” 

“ Then I am glad that you came up here 


108 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


to enjoy a country party,” Eandy said 
smiling. 

‘‘ And some of my little friends at home 
look as if they were tired of parties,” said 
Clare. 

‘‘ Why, how could they be? ” asked Prue, 

parties are such fun! ” 

‘‘ Oh, they are always going to them, and 
they are all alike,” Clare replied. 

“ I wouldn’t be tired of parties if I went 
to one every week,” said Hitty. 

“ I wouldn’t, if they were like this,” said 
Clare. 

Mrs. Harden was delighted to see her lit- 
tle niece so happy and interested in the 
pleasures of the afternoon. 

She had been far from strong all winter, 
and this visit to Eandy ’s home was for the 
change of scene, and for the fresh mountain 
air. 


THE PARTY 


109 


Already she looked brighter, and Helen 
felt encouraged. 

A yellow butterfly flew across the table, 
hovered a second over the ice cream, flew 
toward Clare, then away over the sunlit 
flelds. 

“ Wasn’t he like a fairy? ” exclaimed 
Clare. 

“ His wings were like those that you 
wore at the fancy dress party,” said Helen. 

“Oh! oh! did she wear wings? ” asked 
Phonic Jenks; “ do tell us about them.” 

“ Oh, do, do! ” chimed in all the other 
voices. 

“ Would you not rather see them than 
hear about them? ” questioned Helen, with 
a smile at the eager faces. “ I think Clare 
would willingly show them to you.” 

“ Yes, yes! ” they cried, “ oh, let us see 
the wings! ” 


110 


PRVE’8 PLAYMATES 


“You shall see them on Clare’s shoul- 
ders,” Helen replied, “ and I think she will 
be quite willing to do the little fairy dance 
for you that she did at the party where she 
first wore the wings.” 

“ Oh, will you? ” Hitty asked. 

“ Indeed I will, if you’d like to have me,” 
Clare replied, as simply as if she were speak- 
ing of a very small matter. 

In truth, the little solo dance was one that 
she had learned at dancing school. It was 
really very pretty, although not difficult, 
and she hoped that the children would like 
it. 

She did not know that they had never 
seen any dancing, and thus any graceful 
steps would delight them. 

When, at last, the children had eaten their 
fill of the good things, the Butley boys 
looked shyly at Clare. 


THE PARTY 


111 


‘‘ Goin’ ter let me an’ Job take ye back? ” 
queried Joe. 

‘‘I’m not tired now; I can walk,” she 
said. 

“ But we’re aching ter carry ye,” urged 
Job. 

“ Oh, then you shall,” agreed Clare with 
a sunny smile. 

Back to the house in the “ lady’s-chair ” 
she rode, the merry, laughing playmates fol- 
lowing. 

“Now run up stairs, dear, and I’ll fasten 
your bells and your wings for you,” said 
Helen; and the two disappeared up the 
broad stairway. 

They could hear the buzzing voices of the 
children as they tried to guess what color 
her wings would be, and how she would look 
in them. 

Mrs. Harden came down alone, and asked 


112 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


the children to keep as close to the walls as 
possible, thus leaving the centre of the room 
free. Then she seated herself at the piano, 
and commenced to play a lively polka. 

Down the stairway, and in at the open 
door ran a tiny, elfin figure, dressed in short 
skirts of yellow gauze; yellow wings were 
upon her shoulders, a hand of tiny gilt bells 
fastened her flaxen hair. 

Bells were upon the toes of her slippers, 
and their tinkling music followed her flying 
footsteps. 

Up and down the length of the room she 
sped, seeming to fly, because she moved her 
arms so that the gauzy wings moved with 
them. Now she whirled like a top, now she 
bent low as if over a flower! Ah? she was 
ofl again, spinning, swaying, rocking as if 
tossed by the wind, then flying away with 
a tripping step and a graceful movement of 


THE PARTY 


113 


the arms, then out of the parlor and up the 
stairway. 

Mrs. Harden played a few measures, fin- 
ishing with a trill, and then she followed 
Clare to help remove her costume. 

There was a moment’s hush, then cries of 
admiration, and clapping of hands that told 
of their delight. 

‘‘ Oh, how beautiful! ” 

“ How did she learn to do it! ” 

I wouldn’t believe any one could do 
that! ” 

“No hoy could do that! ” said Phonie 
Jenks. 

“ No gal I ever see could! ” replied Joe 
Butley. 

“ She looked like a truly fairy! ” said 
Prue. 

“ She learned at dancing school,” Helen 
said, in answer to their eager questions. 


114 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


“ and she is always very willing to please 
her friends.” 

“ She’s the dearest girl I ever saw, next 
to my Randy,” said Prue. 

That was great praise, truly, for no one 
could equal Randy, thought Prue, and to be 
next in loveliness to Randy was all that any 
mortal might expect. 

“ All of us children that play together are 
here,” said Phonie Jenks. Isn’t it nice 
for no one to be left out? ” 

“ All but one is here,” said Prue, her 
brown eyes very thoughtful. 

‘‘ Who’s that? ” asked Phonie. 

“ Tell us,” said Hitty. 

‘‘I know,” said Johnny Buffum, “she 
means Hi Babson.” 

“ Well, he ran away before I came here, 
so I didn’t know him, and wouldn’t miss 
him,” Phonie replied. 


THE PARTY 


115 


I miss him,” said Prue; “ he was great 
fun to play with.” 

Johnny missed him, too, hut he did not 
say so. He had always enjoyed Hi, whose 
merry pranks had made him a jolly play- 
fellow, but he felt grieved that Prue should 
care so much for the absent playmate. 

“ Would ye be jest as sorry, Prue, if I 
wasn’t here? ” he asked. 

“ Yes,” said Prue, ‘‘ for I want all my 
friends.” 

Dear, loving little girl! Her heart was 
full of affection for all of her playmates; 
but the thought that Hi was lost, and that 
no one in all the village knew if he were 
dead or alive, distressed her. It is true that 
she played as gaily, and laughed, and sang 
her merry songs; but whenever she thought 
of Hi, her sweet eyes would grow sad and 
thoughtful, and if she was alone, she would 


il6 PRUE^S PLAYMATES 

whisper softly: 1 do wonder where Hi 
is.” 

And where was Hi on this snnny after- 
noon, when his little friends were talking 
of him? 

Up at the Babson farm his mother 
grieved for him. She seldom cried now, but 
daily her face grew sadder and her eyes 
seemed ever to be looking far, far away be- 
yond the distant hills. 

Sometimes she forgot to reply when she 
was spoken to, and always she moved about 
the house as one in a dream. 

“ I can’t think he’s gone for always,” she 
would say; ‘‘ that something has happened 
to him, I feel sure; but he ain’t dead, I 
know, and that thought is all that keeps me 
up.” 

Then Grandma Babson would look to- 
ward others who happened to be in the 


THE PARTY 


117 


room, and would shake her head and tap her 
forehead, as if she wished them to under- 
stand that Hi’s mother must be crazy. 

Mrs. Babson walked slowly to the open 
door, and leaning against the side of the 
doorway, gazed sadly at the horizon line 
where the sky and the moimtains seem to 
meet. 

“ I wonder where he is,” she whispered, 
just as little Prue had said it. 

And where was the hoy, and what was he 
doing while his mother and his friends were 
so earnestly thinking of him? 

Foolish little fellow that he was, he had 
left home and friends behind, and had 
joined a circus troupe, believing that there 
he could be perfectly happy. 

He had hated the tasks that Uncle Bab- 
son had set for him. 

He thought that weeding the garden, 


118 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


splitting kindling, bringing pails of water 
from the well, were what should be called 
hard work. 

When the circus had come to town, he felt 
that under its canvas tent, joy reigned su- 
preme! No work there! Tugging pails of 
water for the animals was interesting! 
Helping to clear the place after each per- 
formance would be fun! And if, later, he 
could learn to ride! 

Hi felt that no words could describe such 
rapture as that! 


CHAPTEE Vn 

HI 

XTI BABSON missed his home, his play- 
mates, his mother most of all; and 
quite as often as she thought of him, his 
wayward little heart longed for her. 

At times he wished that he had never seen 
a circus! 

That was on the days when Dick Paging- 
ton, the owner of the circus, was away; for 
those were the times when Mantelli, the 
bareback rider who was instructing him, 
was cross and surly, and very hard to please. 

One thing had discouraged him. He had 
just begun to feel cheery, because he knew 
that he was rapidly learning. He had rid- 

119 


120 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


den a number of times around tbe ring with- 
out a mishap, when a pebble, thrown by a 
lad who was jealous of him, had caused 
Brown Betty to bolt, with the result that 
Hi had been thrown. His ankle was badly 
injured, and countless bruises had caused 
him a deal of misery. 

Now, the bruises were healed, and the 
ankle was well and strong, but Mantelli’s 
temper was in dreadful condition. 

Small matters angered him, and it seemed 
to be impossible to please him. He frowned, 
and scolded, and stamped around the ring, 
finding fault and making every one in the 
company uncomfortable. 

“ There’s more folks standing round here 
than I have any use for! ” he shouted, “ and 
if ye’ll git out of this ring. I’ll thank ye, and 
occupy my time with this boy,” 

Those who were afraid of Mantelli went 


R1 


121 


quickly; those who were not, took their 
time about it, walking with lagging steps, 
and making very uncomplimentary remarks 
about his temper. 

He seemed not to hear them, waiting in 
frowning silence until they had left the tent. 

Then he turned towards Hi. 

How black he looked! 

“ WeU, young chap! Woke up yet? ” 

“ Ain’t been asleep,” answered Hi, sul- 
lenly. 

“ Goin’ ter take yer lesson this morning, 
or do ye have ter have a printed invitation 
before ye’U come ter practice? ” 

Hi sprang to his feet, his black eyes flash- 
ing, his little flsts tightly clenched. 

‘‘I’ll practise, an’ I’ll do iine if ye’ll be 
decent, but if ye’re goin’ to holler, an’ get 
mad, an’ tear round like ye’ve been doin’. 
I’ll quit! ” he shouted. 


122 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


He saw Mantelli’s dark face change, and 
knew that he had an advantage over this 
man of whom he had long been afraid. 

“ Yes, I will,” he continued, “ for I won’t 
stay here an’ be banged around.” 

“ I haven’t ever laid my hand on ye, hev 
I? ” Mantelli asked, a trifle less roughly 
than before. 

No, ye haven’t slapped nor beaten me, 
but ye’ve done ’bout as bad. Ye’ve called 
me names, an’ hollered at me jest as ye 
shout at the critters, an’ I ainH a critter; 
I’m a boy, an’ I’m a rider, now! I’ll be a 
big rider if I have half a chance ! ” 

Hi’s courage was increasing. 

“ Don’t I teach ye? Ef I don’t, who 
does? ” roared Mantelli. 

“ Of course ye teach me, but ye treat me 
mean, too. I teU ye, I don’t have to stay 
here! I ran away from the farm, an’ I can 


El 


123 


run away from this old circus, an’ I will, 
if ye ain’t half decent,” retorted little Hi. 

How small he looked, defying the dark, 
swarthy man who glowered at him. 

Mantelli was frightened. 

Pagington had supported the boy, in the 
hope that he might become a rider. Now 
that his training was about completed, he 
would certainly wish to keep him, as HI bade 
fair to be a fine performer, daring and 
graceful, with a face and form that would 
surely please an audience. 

Mantelli knew that if Hi became so an- 
gry that he ran away, Pagington would say 
that it was all the fault of the riding-master; 
so he decided to make peace with the little 
lad. 

Come now,” he said, “ don’t be stub- 
born. I got riled with all the good-for- 
nothin’ folks, jest standing round here, but 


124 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


I didn’t mean ter be harsh with 5^e. Look 
up, boy! Who taught ye ter plant yer little 
feet on the saddle an’ stick to it? ’Twas 
me, an’ ye ought ter like me fer that. Say, 
boy, wa’n’t it me? ” 

It sounded like pleading, and Hi, always 
fair, answered generously. 

“ ’Twas you that taught me to ride, and 
I like ye for that! I like ye, anyway, when 
ye’re some pleasant, but when ye look an 
ol’ black pirate, like one I seen in a book, 
an’ shout, an’ stamp, then I don’t want to 
stay where ye be.” 

Mantelli was amused at the boy’s fearless 
speech, and his lips parted in a smile that 
showed two rows of white teeth. 

‘‘ Plucky little imp! ” he said, ‘'I’d not 
like ye half as well as I do if ye was afraid 
of me. Come on! Let’s see ye ride this 
morning! ” 


m 


125 


The boy rose slowly from the old box 
upon which, for the moment, he was sitting, 
walked over to where the brown mare was 
standing, and laid his head against her 
shoulder. She turned her head, and tried to 
caress him. He laughed, and moved nearer. 
Suddenly clasping her delicate muzzle with 
his little hands, he looked up into her eyes, 
and softly whispered: 

‘‘ Help me to-day. Brown Betty, an’ 
p’raps I can do wonders! Could ye go easy, 
lightly? Cow^dye?” 

A soft whinny seemed a reply to the boy’s 
whispered question. 

Did she understand? 

‘‘Ye have a trick of talkin’ to her, and she 
actually expects ye’ll say a little something 
to her every time ye start ter ride.” 

“ I know she does,” said Hi, “an’ she 


don’t ever act cross.” 


126 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Come, come! ” Mantelli replied, “ I 
ain’t cross now, an’ I’m in a hurry ter see 
ye perform.” 

Hi gave Betty’s neck an extra pat, whis- 
pered again to her, and then placed his foot 
in Mantelli ’s waiting hand. Up to the 
broad, flat saddle he sprang, where, with his 
legs firmly braced, he stood looking down 
at his teacher. 

“Ye don’t hev ter wear the harness 
now,” said Mantelli. “ Ain’t ye proud of 
that? ” 

“ Yes, I am,” said Hi, “ but wait ’til ye 
see me ride! ” 

“Now then! Don’t ye get flighty! ” 
warned Mantelli, “ for if ye think ye can do 
it easy, and ye’re careless, down ye’ll come 
with a crack. Ye don’t want ’nother 
twisted ankle, do ye? ” 

“ Ain’t goin’ to fall! ” declared Hi. 


El 


127 


“ All right, then, we’ll say ye ain’t goin’ 
ter,” agreed Mantelli, “ hut all the same, 
ye’ll do well ter brace yer feet, look straight 
ahead, and lean a little toward the centre, 
as I always tell ye to. Ready? ” 

“ Yep! ” chirped Hi. 

“ Off ye go, then! ” shouted Mantelli, as 
he tapped the mare’s flank with his whip 
stock. 

And off like the wind she sped, little Hi 
catching his breath, and bracing himself 
that he might keep his balance and make a 
graceful tour of the ring. 

How his heart beat! 

The color mounted to his cheeks, his eyes 
flashed, the breeze blew his dark hair back 
from his temples ! He was nearing the place 
where the riding-master stood. Could he 
pass him, and again circle the ring? 

Nearer, nearer,— 


128 


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He had passed him! Mantelli cried 
“ Bravo! ” and the little heart beat faster, 
as again the mare flew around the circle. 

He was fearless now! His lips parted in 
a happy smile, and his eyes showed the light 
of triumph! He had conquered the difficult 
task ! He had gained the courage, the con- 
fldence that comes only with persistent 
practice. 

Again he passed Mantelli; this time he 
made a graceful little salute, touching his 
hand to his temple and bowing ever so 
slightly. 

“ Good! ” shouted Mantelli, “ round once 
more, and then I’ll teach ye some new 
tricks.” 

Again he flew around the sawdust ring, 
riding with even more daring than before. 

You done well, Hi,” said Mantelli, no 
man could have done better.” 


129 


HI 

“ Did I do it good enough to let the peo- 
ple see me? ” 

“ Sure,” was the quick reply, and the 
crowd that had been sent out of the tent was 
recalled. 

“ I didn’t mean them! ” said Hi in dis- 
gust, ‘‘ I meant the crowd at the perform- 
ance! ” 

He had slipped to a seat upon the saddle, 
and his dark little face wore a frown. 

“ Oh, that’s it, is it? ” laughed Mantelli. 

‘‘ Wal, young chap, I thought I’d let ye 
ride fer this crowd, an’ see if it rattled ye. 
If it don’t, ye ride for the public a week 
from ter-day! ” 

“ Hooray! ” shouted Hi, springing to his 
feet and doing a little jig, to the amazement 
of Brown Betty. 

He saw her prick up her pretty ears, and 
like a flash he dropped on his knees, crept 


130 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


to her neck, and hiding his face in her sdken 
mane, whispered so softly that no one else 
might hear: 

“I’ll ride for the public, next week, 
Betty dear; next week, do you hear? ” 

She arched her pretty neck as if her little 
master’s triumph were also her own. 

Hi was on his feet in an instant, his eyes 
bright with excitement. 

“ See me do it, the whole crowd of ye! ” 
he shouted. 

He bowed, gave a saucy laugh, and was 
off, his arms outstretched, his manner con- 
fident. 

Three times he circled the sawdust ring, 
the members of the troupe stamping and 
clapping, shouting, whistling, and in every 
way showing that they were glad that Hi 
had gained his master’s approval. 

They knew the cost of learning. They 


HI 


131 


knew, as no others could know, of the dis- 
appointments, the bruises earned in heavy- 
falls, the lame muscles, the tears and the 
homesickness and the heartaches that be- 
long to the one who enters the ring. 

Some of those who watched Hi were rid- 
ers, some were only canvas men; but all 
were heartily glad for him, and willing to 
show their delight. 

The brown mare stopped, and Mantelli 
lifted Hi down. 

They grasped his hands, and praised him 
for his courage and his skill. 

Hi began to feel that, after all, the hard 
work was worth while. 

The week spent in continuous practice 
had sped as if on wings, and now the sun- 
light came peeping through slits in the can- 
vas, and a straying sunbeam touched little 


132 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Hi’s dark face, as if to M^ake and remind 
him that this was the day of his debut. 

He lay, as usual, beside Jim, the big, 
flaxen-haired drummer, who, from the first, 
had been his firm friend. Jim was sound 
asleep; and Hi crept out of bed, taking 
great care not to waken him, dressed him- 
self as quickly as possible, and slipped from 
the tent out into the light of early morning. 

How still it was! Not a sound, save the 
soft note of some tiny bird that chirped as 
if but half awake. 

They had pitched their tent in a field, and 
the dew lay like a silvery veil over the short 
grass, while the mountains in the distance 
seemed like dream mountains, so faintly 
blue against the sky. 

Even the trees had a silvery hue, and the 
hush, the silence all around, awed Hi, and 
for a moment, he held his breath. 


HI 


133 


A faint tint of rose now touched the east- 
ern sky, and without knowing why he did 
it, he stretched his arms out toward the 
dawning day. 

His eyes were pleading. 

Rough little scamp that he was, he had 
remembered to whisper the little prayer 
that his mother had taught him, each night 
before he went to sleep. Now his lips 
formed a prayer of his own. 

A moment he stood, his lips parted, ea- 
gerly looking toward the faintly glowing 
sky. Then his lips moved. 

‘‘ Oh, let me ride my best to-day! ” he 
whispered, but it seemed like a cry from his 
heart. 

‘‘ Let me, make me ride my best, for then 
I can earn, and I can send for ma, an’ not 
be so lonesome. She hates to live with Un- 
cle Bab son, who just barely lets her stay 


134 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


there ’cause he has to. Make me do fine, 
an’ I’ll be a good boy.” 

He dropped to the grass at the finish of 
the odd little prayer, and lay sobbing from 
sheer nervousness. 

Meanwhile, big Jim had opened his eyes, 
reached out, as usual, to take little Hi on 
his arm for a few moments, and had been 
thoroughly frightened to find that Hi was 
not there. 

Jim’s first thought was that Hi had car- 
ried out his threat of the week before, and 
had left the circus. 

He hurriedly dressed, and rushed from 
the tent, standing a moment at the entrance 
to look about him. 

No little figure was in sight, and the big 
fellow brushed his rough hand across his 
eyes, and sallied forth to search for his child 
friend. He had not far to go, however, for 



“Oh, let me ride my best to-day! ” — Page 133. 







BI 135 

as he turned to follow a narrow foot-path, 
he saw Hi lying in a little heap upon the 
grass. 

Jim hurried toward him, sure that the 
boy had been hurt. 

“ What is it, what is it, little feller? Who 
has hurt ye? Ye’ll surely tell Jim! ” he 
cried, terror in his voice that shook as he 
spoke. 

“ Tell me,” he urged. 

Hi felt a hit shy, and did not wish to tell 
even Jim of his little prayer, which he had 
so earnestly offered. 

He hid his face, but thrust out his hand 
toward Jim. 

Nobody’s hurt me,” he said. 

“ Then what he ye layin’ out here for? ” 
questioned Jim. 

“ Just to think ’bout riding before all the 
tent-full to-day,” said Hi. 


136 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


‘‘ Couldn’t ye think in the tent? ” Jim 
asked, not wholly satisfied. 

“ I wanted to think alone,” Hi replied, 
‘‘ and now I’m done thinking. I’ll come in 
with you.” 

He sprang up from the grass, and Jim’s 
big heart was relieved; for as he looked at 
the boy, his bright, happy face set all doubt 
aside. 

There was much joking around the break- 
fast table— which, by the way, was formed 
from two long planks placed upon three 
barrels, one at each end, and one in the mid- 
dle to keep the boards from sagging. 

The clown asked the lady rider if the cos- 
tume that she had been making for herself 
was done, to which she replied that it was 
well done, which was more than she could 
say of the steak that they were eating. 

The jugglers called for the cook, and 


HI 


137 


while they were waiting for him, amused 
themselves by balancing their plates upon 
the tips of their fingers, whirling them 
around at a rapid rate hut never letting 
them drop. 

The old dog that had joined the circus 
without an invitation, now barked at the 
jugglers, as if he knew that such actions at 
the table did not look well. 

Hi enjoyed the fun, eating his breakfast 
with a good appetite, talking with Jim, who 
sat beside him, and slyly giving the dog a 
treat, now and then. 

Then some one noticed the small hoy. 

“ Hello, Hi! I hear Pagington has a fine 
rig for you to wear,” said one of the canvas 
men. 

‘‘ I guess it’s a fine one, but I haven’t 
seen it yet,” said Hi. 

“ He says he’s goin’ ter make a reg’lar 


138 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


star of the little chap: put his name on the 
programs; an’ dress him in great style,” 
said a rough-looking man who sat beside 
Jim. 

Jim nodded, but made no reply. 

Pagington thinks he’s got a bargain,” 
the man continued, “ fer all the men an’ 
women riders he has ter pay; hut Hi is only 
a child, an’ course he wouldn’t pay a child, 
an’ he ain’t got no relatives to ask fer his 
wages.” 

Jim frowned, and leaned his elbows upon 
the table, his chin in his hands, and sat 
thinking. He liked fair play, and he knew 
that that, certainly, was neither fair nor 
honest. 

“Hot pay a child! And why not? ” he 
muttered, but the clatter of dishes drowned 
his words; and before the man could ask 
what he had said, he had left the table. 


El 


139 


He strode from the tent, and this time it 
was Jim that wanted to think alone. 

He stood with his arms folded, a frown 
on his usually pleasant face. 

‘‘Not pay the little chap fer what he 
does? Not pay him fer riding as tine as 
Mantelli himself? ” he muttered. 

“ If Pagington is as mean as that, I guess 
I’ll see ’bout it; fer as true’s my name is 
Jim, the little feller is ter be treated fair! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 

HI MAKES HIS d£BUT 

f I IHERE was excitement everywhere. 

Outside the tent, the ticket seller was 
shouting to the eager crowd of farmers and 
their wives, urging them to hurry and buy 
their tickets before they were all gone. 

Big Jim stood beside the ticket seller, and 
whenever the man paused to take breath, 
Jim smote the drum with a whack that 
threatened to burst its head. 

One cautious farmer asked where the best 
seats were, and the ticket seller, assisted by 
Jim, made this reply: 

Buy yer seats as quick as ye kin hand 
up yer money,— bang, bang, bang,— the 
140 


m MAKES HIS DEBUT 141 

seats is all alike,— bang,— and they’re sell- 
ing like hot cakes,— bang, bang bang!— 
Want a ticket? If ye do, speak quick, an’ 
take it now,— bang, bang,— bang, bang, 
BANG!!! ” 

The man offered a quarter with one hand 
and covered his ear with the other. 

‘‘I’ll be lucky if I git out’n this ’thout 
gitting deef,” he said. 

“ Come, now, step lively! Buy yer tickets 
ter Pagington’s Circus an’ Menagerie! 
Here ye be, sir! A ticket fer yerself an’ 
wife, an’ no extry charge fer yer dog! ” 

Old Towser, who sat beside the ticket 
seller, thought differently. Towser was a 
yellow dog, and the farmer’s dog was black 
and white! 

“ No calico dog for me! ” thought Tow- 
ser, as he made a spring toward the black 
and white dog. 


142 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Gr-r-r-r! ” remarked Towser, and the 
farmer’s dog jumped back. Oh, well, 
leave yer dog outside. Our dog is a leetle 
partic’lar, an’ he don’t like the color of 
yourn. Come along! Hand up yer quar- 
ters! It wants only a half hour before the 
performance begins! ” 

Bang! Bang! BANG! ” 

The drummer paused to mop his face with 
his huge, plaid handkerchief. 

“I’m ’most roasted,” he said. 

“ ’Tis hot,” said the ticket man, “ but I 
guess you’ll have ter whack the drum a speU 
longer. I see some people cornin’ down the 
road, an’ I don’t want ’em ter go by. The 
drum will fetch ’em. Git’s ’em so excited 
they don ’no where they be, till they’ve 
handed up their money an’ are shoved in- 
side the tent. 

“ Here ye are! This way! This way! ” 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 143 

he yelled, and Jim, with all his might, smote 
the drum, until it seemed a wonder that it 
did not cry for mercy. 

The din was deafening! 

“ I guess ye won’t need any more drum- 
ming,” said Jim, as he dragged forth his 
big handkerchief and wiped his face and 
neck, “ so I’ll run in an’ see how the young- 
ster is getting along.” 

‘‘ This is a great day for him,” the man 
replied, “ an’ it’s likely he’s some excited.” 

“ I guess that’s so,” agreed Jim, “ but he 
ain’t any more excited than I he. He’s my 
little friend, and I’ve banged the drum like 
all possessed to-day, ter git a big crowd ter 
see him.” 

“ Biggest crowd we’ve ever had,” the 
ticket seller replied, “ fer I’ve sold all the 
tickets I had, and I’ve let twenty in since, 
with jest some slips of paper that I writ on 


144 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


so Pagington will pass ’em. They’s all the 
crowd the tent’ll hold.” 

“I’m glad of it! ” said Jim heartily, as 
he turned toward the tent, hut not toward 
the wide opening where the crowd had en- 
tered. He passed that, after glancing in at 
the rows upon rows of eager faces, and saun- 
tered around to the rear of the tent. 

There, a little tent boasted the sign: 
“ Dressing room,” and here Jim knew that 
he would find the boy. 

He lifted the flapping canvas, that hung 
in place of a door, and entered, looking 
around the place for the boy. 

“ Somebody tie my slippers on,” cried a 
shriU little voice, from behind a pile of 
trunks, and Jim strode over to find the 
owner of the voice. 

There sat Hi, a pair of pale yellow tights 
upon his sturdy legs, and gilded slippers on 


El MAKES HIS DEBUT 


145 


his feet. Long ribbons hung from the slip- 
pers, that were to be tied sandal fashion 
around his legs, but try as he would. Hi 
could not manage them. 

“ Somebody help me! ” he shouted again 
just as Jim reached him. 

“ Hello! What’s up. Hi? ” he asked. 

“ Pagington told me to get dressed, and 
I don’t know how these ribbons are to go.” 

“ Neither do I,” declared Jim, “ but I’ll 
find some one that does.” 

He left Hi, and went to the rear of the 
little tent where two women in tarleton 
skirts and spangled tights sat talking to- 
gether. 

The dark one, whom every one called Lot- 
tie, returned with Jim. On the program 
she was “ M’lle Carlotta,” but in the circus 
family under the tents, she was simply 
Lottie, and she liked little Hi. 


146 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Hello! ” she cried, kneeling beside the 
boy. ‘‘ Why didn’t ye come to me? Don’t 
me an’ Jim always help ye? ” 

“ I didn’t know where you were,” said 
Hi, “ and Pagington said I must hurry and 
be ready, and I couldn’t fasten these slip- 
pers. I can’t ride with shoes that slip! ” 
Guess not,” said the woman, tying them 
firmly around the sturdy legs, and then giv- 
ing the ribbons an extra twitch to make 
sure that they were secure. 

Now I may as well put on the rest of 
yer costume. I’m ’bout wild to see how ye 
look in it, an’ so’s Jim.” 

“ You both are always good to me, and 
I like you an’ Jim. Do you like Jim? ” Hi 
asked, looking up into their faces. 

Nothing escaped his sharp eyes. He saw 
Lottie’s color deepen under the powder and 
rouge. 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 147 

“ She does, Jim! ” he cried. “ Ain’t you 
glad? ” 

“ I’ve been tryin’ ter git her ter tell me,” 
said Jim, awkwardly, but she wouldn’t 
say.” 

“ But look at her! ” insisted Hi; and Jim 
looked. 

“ Now, Jim,” said the girl, “ I’ll give ye 
an answer that’ll make ye happy if you’ll 
wait till after the performance, but I can’t 
be rattled now, if I’m going to ride.” 

“ All right, Lottie,” said Jim, just that 
ye said has made me so happy that I kin 
knock the big drum higher than a kite this 
afternoon! ” 

“ I don’t advise ye to, Jim, for we’ll need 
it again this evening,” was Lottie’s laugh- 
ing answer as she turned toward Hi, who 
stood waiting to be dressed. 

A yellow tunic, the same shade as his 


148 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


tights, lay upon the trunk, and the girl 
slipped it over his head; he thrust his arms 
through the loose armholes, and she drew 
the tinsel belt around his waist. 

a There’s a gold band for my head,” said 
Hi, very eager that all the glittering bits of 
his costume should be in place. 

“ Here it is, Hi,” she said, and she fas- 
tened it securely over his dark hair. 

Then, still upon her knees, she threw her 
arms around him, and looked, for a moment, 
into his little, dark face. 

“ Hi,” she said, “ ye’re ready, and I want 
to say one thing to ye. I remember the first 
day I rode for the public! I was little, like 
you; and my heart beat fast and faster 
when I heard the band. I could see the 
faces of the folks a-waiting to see me, for 
the curtain blew in an’ out, and so, every 
little while I’d get a peep at them. 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 


149 


“ Now, Hi, you likely feel as I did. Ye 
want to do fine. Ye want to succeed, and 
hear the people clap; but one thing keep in 
yer mind: don’t ye let yourself git too ex- 
cited, for if ye do, ye won’t do yerself any 
credit, an’ ye may get a fall.” 

She paused, and again looked earnestly 
into his eyes. 

“ I’ll keep cool! ” said Hi, “ an’ I’U do 
my best for you ’n’ Jim.” 

The girl swallowed a lump that rose in 
her throat. 

“ That’s sweet,” she said, “an’ ye can 
do it for Jim an’ me, jest as ye said, hut 
there’s ’nother thing to think of. A thing 
that I keep in my mind whenever I go in to 
ride. 

“ Over and over I keep saying: ‘ Lottie, 
the public has paid to see ye, and ye must 
be honest with ’em, and do yer best.’ ” 


150 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“I’ll do that, too,” said the hoy, “I’ll be 
honest and fair! ” 

She clasped him in her arms for a mo- 
ment, and then, with a light kiss on his 
cheek, ran to her horse that stood waiting, 
mounted him, and rode through the open- 
ing, the clown holding the canvas aside for 
her to pass. 

There were little cries of delight when she 
entered the ring, and then the noisy clamor 
of the band drowned all other sounds. 

Hi could not see her, and it was the first 
time that he had missed a performance, but 
now that he was a rider, he must remain 
out of sight until it was his turn to appear. 

He knew every movement of her act, and 
he stood almost holding his breath as he 
counted them off on his fingers. 

“ How, she’s bowing! ” he whispered, 
“ and now she’s holding out her arms and 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 


151 


smiling. Now she’s doing some pretty steps 
on the saddle.” 

Then, after a moment, he continued: 

“ Now she’s sitting on the saddle and just 
riding roimd; now she’s jumped up, and 
she’s standing on one toe; now she’s throw- 
ing a kiss to the crowd. Now,— she’s com- 
ing out.” 

As he spoke, she rode in, sprang from her 
horse, and sat down upon the old trunk, 
smiling at the loud applause that had fol- 
lowed her. 

Hi ran to her, and leaning upon her lap, 
looked up into her face. 

“You did fine, I know you did ! Just hear 
them clapping still! ” 

“ I did my best,” she said, looking down 
at him. 

“ That’s what I’m going to do! ” said Hi. 

“ You always do, dear,” she answered. 


152 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


‘‘ I didn’t on the farm,” said Hi. “ I 
hated weeding; the old sorrel and pusley 
were nasty! ” 

She laughed softly. 

‘‘ And so you ran away and joined the 
circus to get away from weeding pusley, did 
you? ” she said. Well, I ran away to 
dodge washing dishes, so I guess we’re ’bout 
even.” 

“ Were you ever— homesick? ” he fal- 
tered. 

“ Yes, Hi,” she answered, gently, “ but 
we won’t talk about that now. We must 
talk of gay things when we’re going to 
ride,” and she attracted his attention to the 
clown, who, at that moment, was twirling 
his pointed hat on his wand. 

Hi laughed with glee at the fellow’s an- 
tics, and Lottie was delighted. 

Jim had often spoken to her of Hi’s home- 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 


153 


sickness, and she knew that he must not let 
his mind dwell upon anything so sad, when 
he was about to perform. 

Light, glad, sure of success, he must be 
to skilfully do the act. 

The jugglers ran in next, and the crowd 
cheered them to the echo. 

The band played with all its might. 

The wind instruments fairly screamed, 
the cymbals clashed, and Jim banged the 
big bass drum as if he were trying to see 
how much noise he could make. 

Henrique, the other boy rider, had been 
ill for a week. Not violently sick, but far 
too ill to ride. He now lay on a mattress, 
his mother beside him, and in spite of her 
efforts to comfort him, he fumed and fretted, 
not only because he could not ride, but be- 
cause Hi could. 

Hi knew that Henrique was ill, but he 


154 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


had not seen him since he had been forced 
to stay in bed. 

Hi knew that Henrique hated him, and he 
took good care to keep out of his way. 

Now the jugglers had finished their act, 
and Mantelli stood waiting to be called. 

He was a very different Mantelli from the 
one who slouched around the tent in the 
morning, giving Hi his lesson, and caring 
not a whit how he looked. 

Forenoons, he appeared with his dark 
hair tousled, an old blouse and a pair of 
coarse trousers forming his costume, to 
which he added shabby, dilapidated old slip- 
pers or shoes. 

Now in his spangled tights, satin slippers, 
and velvet trunks, his fine figure showed to 
advantage, and his carefully groomed hair 
and smiling face made him almost a hand- 
some fellow. 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 


155 


“ Your act comes right after mine,” he 
said to Hi. 

“ I know it! ” Hi answered, an eager lit- 
tle catch in his voice. 

‘‘ Will ye be ready? ” 

He need not have asked. The boy’s face 
was bright with excitement, and his restless 
feet tapped the floor. 

The other acts had seemed long to the ex- 
cited child, and he had wondered if he woifld 
ever have his turn to perform, but now that 
the time approached, the moments flew on 
wings. 

Before he dreamed it, Mantelli had re- 
turned, and was holding his hand for Hi to 
mount. 

Ah,— he was upon the saddle, he had 
whispered to Brown Betty,— he was out 
through the opening,— he was circling the 
ring,— had ridden twice around it, smiling 


156 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


at the crowd, had done the graceful posing 
that Mantelli had taught him,— had bowed, 
flourished his tiny whip, and was back in 
the little tent. 

The crowd thundered its wild applause, 
louder, and yet louder than for any of the 
others. The tiny flgure in its pale yellow 
costume had captured their hearts. 

Louder, and yet louder they stamped, 
clapped, and whistled, and Mantelli, taking 
Hi by the hand, led him out through the 
opening to bow to the audience. 

The boy looked even smaller than they 
had thought, beside Mantelli, and their 
cheering was renewed. 

Again he bowed, and smiled. 

Then he returned to Lottie. 

She had thought that he would be so wild 
with excitement that it would be almost 
impossible to calm him. Instead, he sat 


HI MAKES HIS DEBUT 


157 


down upon the old trunk beside her, and 
leaned against her shoulder. 

“ This was my first time,” he said, “ my 
very first time! ” 

“ Your first time, an’ ye made a great 
hit,” she said. 

‘‘ I wish one thing more could have hap- 
pened; I wish ma had been lookin’ to see 
me ride like that.” 

He was crying softly, now. The nervous 
strain of preparing for this, the day of his 
debut, together with the homesickness that 
was daily increasing, had left h i m tired; 
and the tears that he hated to have seen, 
ran down his cheeks, in spite of his effort to 
keep them back. 

The woman knew him to be proud and 
independent, and she also knew that he 
would not wish any one to see his tears. 

‘‘ Come over to this corner where there’s 


158 


PRVE’8 PLAYMATES 


more room, an’ I’ll take these things off, 
and put yer old duds on,” she said, thus 
taking Hi away from the curious members 
of the company. 

That night. Hi dropped to sleep on Jim’s 
arm, tired, happy in his success, but far 
more homesick than he would have been 
willing to admit. 


CHAPTER IX 

SUNDAY 

TT was Sunday morning, and Prue, in a 
fresh, white frock, a broad-brimmed hat 
trimmed with daisies, and wee pink parasol, 
was out in the door-yard, waiting impa- 
tiently to start for church. 

“ Philury! Philury! ” she cried, looking 
up toward the chamber windows. “ Phi- 

lu-Yj\ ” 

A jolly face peeped from the window. 

Oh, there you are! ” cried Prue. “ I 
just wanted you to see my pink parasol that 
Randy gave me, and I couldn’t wait for you 
to come down! ” 

She waved the little sunshade about fran- 
tically, as if it had been a flag. 

159 


160 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Do you see how rosy pink it is when the 
sun shines on if? ” she asked. 

“Ye couldn’t get it anywhere where it 
wouldn’t look fine,” said Philury, “ an’ I’ll 
be daown in a minute to see it closer.” 

“ All right! ” called Prue, hut she did not 
think of waiting, because just at that mo- 
ment she happened to remember that she 
had not seen the calf that morning. 

“ Oh, I can’t go to church without saying 
good-bye to bossy,— no, I mean Philomena. 
I only named her yesterday, and I must call 
her that every day, or I’ll forget what name 
I chose. Randy said that Philomena 
sounded odd for calf, but I like it. It sounds 
quite grand.” 

She hurried along, calling softly: “ Philo- 
mena! Philomena! ” 

The pretty creature seemed very placid, 
and submitted to Prue’s petting, and moved 



“Youk truly name is Philomena.”— P as'e 161 , 


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SUNDAY 


161 


her ears as if listening to the sweet little 
voice, that called her endearing names. 

“You are Philomena, hut I can call you 
bossy, or Philly, or Meny, because those 
sound like pet names; but your truly name 
is Philomena. I keep saying it over, so you 
and I will remember it,” she said. 

Then, after several soft little pats, she 
turned, and hurried back to the house. 

Then she perched upon the stone wall, to 
wait until the old carryall came down to the 
gateway. 

Philury, who approved of anything that 
Prue did, whispered to Aunt Prudence: 

“ Look at her! Ain’t she cute! ” 

“ She’s a pretty sight,” agreed Aunt Pru- 
dence, “ but don’t you spoil her, Philury.” 

“It’s hard ter say who tries hardest to 
spoil her; you or me,” said Philury, and 
both laughed softly. 


162 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Goin’ ter git in, an’ ride ter meetin’? ” 
asked Squire Weston. 

“ Guess so,” said Prue, ‘‘ but ’twas fun 
sitting right here on the wall in the sun, 
just to see how much my parasol shades 
me.” 

The ride to church was long and sunny, 
but Prue cared not at all for the heat. Was 
she not under a rose-colored parasol? 

The little church was hot and close, and 
the sermon very long. 

The children found it hard to be patient. 

Prue closed her sunshade, and placed it 
in the book rack, where, while she could not 
use it, she could, at least, look at it. She 
soon became drowsy, however, and sprang 
to her feet in surprise when Parson Spooner 
said, loudly, “ Amen.” 

Sunday school proved to be very interest- 
ing. Mrs. Meeks was Prue’s teacher, and 



Down the length of the koom she swept — a tiny whirlwind 
OF ACTION AND COLOR — Fag t 162 












SUNDAY 


163 


her class was surely the liveliest in the 
school. 

Mrs. Hodgkins, as she passed Mrs. 
Meeks, felt obliged to express her opinion. 

‘‘ I guess, by the looks, ye’ll have yer 
hands full ter-day, Ahniry. Every one of 
them youngsters is ready ter wriggle, an’ 
giggle, an’ do anything but sit still. I’m yer 
aunt, an’ I advise ye ter give up that class. 
It’s too much fer ye.” 

Mrs. Meeks smiled, but made no reply. 

She knew that her aunt was ever ready 
to give her opinion, never waiting until it 
was asked for. She liked children, but she 
never quite understood them; and they, in 
turn, liked her because she let them do as 
they pleased. 

She tried faithfully to explain the lessons, 
but often the boys and girls asked questions 
that she could not answer. 


164 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


The Butley boys were waiting at the door 
when Prue entered. 

‘‘I’ve got ter sit ’side of ye, ’cause I said 
I’d be good,” said Job. 

“ Me, too,” said Joe, “I sort of hanker 
ter be good, too.” 

The seats were already quite full, but 
with a little crowding, Joe squeezed in be- 
side Prue. 

“Here! You ginune your seat,” cried 
Job. 

“ Gruess not,” said Joe stoutly. 

“ Teacher, you make Joe git up,” said 
Job. “ I’ve got ter sit next ter Prue, ’cause 
I want ter be good.” 

“ Since when? ” asked a small boy, in a 
teasing voice. 

“ Children, this is in Sunday school. Sit 
down an ’ b e quiet. ’ ’ 

The little girls squeezed each a trifle 


SUNDAY 


165 


nearer to the other, and Job was given a 
space to sit upon, where, if he was very care- 
ful, he could keep his balance and not land 
on the floor. 

Johnny BufEum sat between Hitty and 
Phonic Jenks, and at first he felt very 
gloomy as he saw the Joy of the Butley 
twins. Later, he decided to be very atten- 
tive to Phonic, and to his great delight, he 
saw that Prue was watching him. 

“ Now, children, what’s the name of the 
man that this lesson is ’bout? ” 

Lot! ” they shouted. 

That was the only question that they all 
could answer. 

Mrs. Meeks turned toward Joe. 

“Joe, what are the names of the places 
spoken of ? ” 

“ Sodom an’ To-morrer? ” shouted Joe 
confidently. 


166 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Shouts of laughter greeted his answer, 
and Joe was angry. 

“ Quit laughin’ at a feller! ” he said, and, 
as most of the pupils were afraid of him, 
the laughter ceased. 

Mrs. Meeks read the verses that told the 
story, and tried to explain them. 

“ Now, who can tell what happened to 
Mrs. Lot? ” she asked. “ Can any of you 
teU? ” 

A number of hands were waved excitedly. 
They all wished to tell. 

“ I know, I know! ” they whispered. 

“ Hitty, you can answer,” said Mrs. 
Meeks. 

“ She was turned into a pillow of salt,” 
said Hitty. “ WeU, what are they laughing 
at now? ” 

It was, truly, a most uneasy class, and yet 
the little pupils were not wilful. 


SUNDAY 


167 


They did not fully understand the lesson, 
and their teacher was unable to explain it 
to them, so it was not strange that she could 
not hold their interest. 

Carlie Shelton asked if Prue might walk 
along with her for company on her way 
home. Prue was going over to Randy’s 
after Simday school, and Carlie ’s home was 
on the same road. 

The two little girls trudged along to- 
gether, and as they walked, they talked of 
the lesson. 

“ Why did they laugh at what Hitty Buf- 
fum said? ” Carlie asked. 

‘‘ ’Cause she said Lot’s wife was turned 
into a pillow of salt.” 

“ Well, what if she did? ” said Carlie. 

“ ’Taint spelled that way,” said Prue, 
“ it’s p-i-l-l-a-r, and Hitty oughtn’t to have 
called it pil-low.” 


168 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


‘‘Well, what’s the difference ? ” Carlie 
insisted. 

“ I don’t know,” said Prue, “ but I do 
know I wouldn’t like to have been Mrs. Lot. 
I keep turning ’round all the time, so I’ll 
see my sunshade, but I wouldn’t if I was 
her, because then I’d be all salt.” 

“ She needn’t have turned roimd,” said 
Carlie, “ she didn’t have a parasol to look 
at! ” 

“ P’raps she did,” said Prue. 

“ She coiddn’t have,” declared Carlie. 

“ How do you know? ” asked Prue. 

“ You’ve seen the men and women in the 
Noah’s Arks, and you know they look just 
like churns, and they never have any para- 
sols or umbrellas,” Carlie replied, “ so Mrs. 
Lot couldn’t have had one.” 

“ But, Carlie,” said Prue, stopping in the 
middle of the road to look Carlie directly in 


SUNDAY 


169 


the face, “ Lot and Mrs. Lot weren’t in the 
ark! ” 

‘‘ I didn’t say they were,” said Carlie 
sharply, “ but Noah lived in old times, and 
so did Lot, and don’t you s’pose all those 
people we learn about at Sunday school 
looked just alike? ” 

Prue said she couldn’t see why. 

“ But the wooden men and women in the 
Noah’s Ark look just alike, and their 
clothes are alike, and I can’t tell which is 
Ham, or Shem, or— O dear, no matter 
what that other name is, I’ve got to sit down 
on this log and take off my shoe. It pinches 
me, or there’s something in it, I don’t know 
which.” 

Carlie sat down, and took off the pretty 
shoe. There was nothing in it, and after a 
moment she replaced it, walking the re- 
mainder of the way with it unbuttoned. 


170 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


They said good-bye ” at Randy’s gate, 
and Prue ran up to the house, where Clare 
stood smiling and eagerly waiting to greet 
her. 

‘‘ I’m so glad you came to-day,” she said, 
“ for I go back to Boston with Aunt Helen 
to-morrow.” 

“ And I’m glad to be here,” said Prue. 

“ I wanted you to come,” continued 
Clare, because I like to have you with me, 
but most, I wanted to tell you something! ” 

“ Oh, I love to be told things! ” cried 
Prue, ‘‘ tell it quick, quick! ” 

Clare laughed at Prue’s excitement, then, 
looking very wise, she leaned toward her. 

‘‘ Guess what you’re going to do? ” she 
asked. 

“ Me! ” 

“Yes; and you couldn’t guess, so I’ll tell 
you. You’re coming to Boston next winter 


SUNDAY 


171 


to stay at my house for a little visit, and go 
everywhere, and see everything with me! ” 

“ To Boston! To Boston, did you say? ” 
cried Prue, springing to her feet, and dan- 
cing about. “ How ever will I wait ’til win- 
ter? Who’ll go with me? When shall I 
start? My! My! WTiat will Hitty Buffum 
say when I tell her? Does Randy know, 
yet? ” 

Clare was laughing with delight at Prue’s 
excitement. 

“ Randy’s coming, too,” she said, “ and 
you come all the way in the cars with her. 
Now, aren’t you glad you came over here 
after Sunday school? ” 

“ If I’d known what you had to tell me, 
I’d have run all the way! ” said Prue. 

Together they ran into the house, to have 
the joyful news confirmed. 

Jotham sat near the window, reading. 


172 


PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 


while Helen and Randy were talking of the 
proposed visit. 

‘‘ The visit to the city will he a wild de- 
light to Prue,” Randy was saying, as Prue 
rushed in, followed by Clare. 

Oh, it is true! ” said Prue, “ and I am 
going to Boston! Oh, Randy, don’t you 
think we might begin getting ready, now"? ” 

“Not quite yet,” said Randy, with a 
merry laugh, “ but it will be something fine 
for you to think of, and to dream of from 
now until we make the trip.” 

“ And I can begin to tell it, just as soon 
as I see somebody to tell it to,” said Prue. 

True to her word, on Monday morning 
Prue ran down to tell the Buffmns, and to 
enjoy their surprise. 

She could not see Clare again, because the 
travellers were to take an early train, start- 
ing at daylight on the long ride to the city. 


SUNDAY 


173 


She had said “ good-bye ” on Sunday after- 
noon, and the two little girls had promised 
to write long letters. It would be the next 
thing to talking, they said. 

As Prue approached the Buffmn house, 
she saw Johnny filling a pail at the old 
wooden pump. 

“ Oh, Johnny, I’m going to Boston! ” she 
shouted. 

Johnny dropped his pail. His little round 
face could not have looked more horrified 
if Prue had said that she was going to Af- 
rica. 

“ Oh, donH go till I’ve kissed ye! ” he 
shouted. 

“ I won’t let you! ” cried Prue. 

But I’ve got to, if ye’re goin’ way off! ” 
wailed Johnny. “Ho let me! ” 

She paused, a frown puckering her fore- 
head; then a sunny smile drove away the 


174 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


frown, and she looked up, shaking her curly 
head as she said: 

‘‘ I guess I needn’t hurry to let you, for 
I’m not going until next winter! ” 

Hitty was quite as much startled as 
Johnny had been. 

‘‘ She’s invited you, but will you go? ” 
she asked, with staring eyes. 

“ What a thing to ask! ” cried Prue. “ I 
guess you’d go, without stopping a minute 
to think.” 

“ But ain’t you ’fraid? Deacon Lawton 
told Johnny that the city was a place to 
keep away from. He said the city was a 
wicked place.” 

“ He didn’t say Boston was wicked, did 
he? ” Prue asked, anxiously. 

“ He didn’t say Boston; he said city,” 
said Hitty, who was very truthful, and Prue 
looked relieved. 


SUNDAY 


175 


“ Oh, then he meant some other place,” 
she said. “ I knew he just couldn’t have 
meant Boston, for Boston couldn’t he 
wicked. My Randy went to school there 
all one winter, and she thought it was 
lovely.” 

“ Well, I’d risk it an’ go if I could,” said 
Hitty, who felt that she had been just no- 
where at all. To be sure, Prue had never 
been away from the village, but what a 
travelled person she would he after three 
whole weeks in Boston! 

Hitty fairly gasped at the thought. 

It was Johnny upon whom the blow fell 
hardest. 

Prue had left them, that she might run 
over to Sandy McLeod’s to tell the fine 
news, and Johnny, too disconsolate to play 
any games with Hitty, carried the pail of 
water to the house, and then ran down the 


176 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


path and around behind the barn, where he 
sat down to think the matter over. 

Prue to be away three weeks in the win- 
ter! How could he endure school without 
his sunny little companion? 

With his elbows on his knees, and his 
chin in his hands, he seemed lost in gloomy 
thought. 

After a time, he began to grumble softly 
to himself. 

“ She’ll go down to Boston, an’ see all the 
sights, an’ get ’quainted with city boys, an’ 
when she comes back, I won’t be anybody 
at all! ” 

After this cheerful speech, he leaned back 
against a heap of rubbish, and lay thinking 
if there was anything that a small boy could 
do in such a desperate case. 

“ If I could make her think I’m just the 
best boy in the world before she goes, p’raps 


SUNDAY 


177 


she’ll think some of me when she’s away,” 
he whispered. 

Then a fine idea came into his little head; 
an idea so cheering that he decided at once 
that there was not a moment to lose. He 
would do it, and at once, too! He would 
open a store! Silas Barnes wasn’t the only 
man that could keep a store! No, indeed! 

He did not intend to keep a hig store, but 
why should he? He had no idea of selling 
such uninteresting things as kerosene, soap, 
or salt pork! He would sell things that 
were treats, and a very little store would he 
quite large enough. 

With the money he would thus earn, he 
could constantly treat Prue; and hy the 
time she was ready to start for Boston, 
Johnny believed that he would be firm in 
her affection. 

He sat up, and thrusting his hands in his 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


pockets, drew forth what cash he pos- 
sessed. 

Three coppers were in his right hand, and 
five in his left! He had earned those cop- 
pers picking blueberries for a woman who 
kept boarders, but he thought that that was 
a slow way of getting money. She had paid 
two cents a quart, and oh, how long it did 
take to fill a quart pail ! He must get money 
quicker than that. Prue was always a dear 
little friend, but she was already full of the 
thought that she was to enjoy a trip to the 
city. Johnny felt that time was precious! 
He must show Prue that he, Johnny Buf- 
fum, had wealth, and that he believed that 
money was made to be spent! 


CHAPTER X 

JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 

TT7 ITH Johnny, to think was to act. He 
^ thrust his coppers back into his 
pockets, and ran around to the barn. 

Two nail kegs were the first things that 
he saw, and they were just what he wanted. 
He thought that four would have been still 
better, and after much searching he found 
two other kegs, and felt that his store was 
about half built. 

Then he stood for a moment, thinking. 

What could he find that he could use for 
a counter? There was nothing in the barn 
that seemed possible, and he ran to the 
wood-shed. 


179 


180 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


He pounced upon the first thing that he 
saw there. 

Was there ever such luck? 

It was the door of an old chicken-coop, 
and Johnny wondered if any storekeeper 
ever had a better counter than his would be 
when the chicken-coop door was placed on 
top of the four nail kegs. 

“ What you goin’ to do? ” Hitty asked, 
as she saw Johnny placing the door on the 
kegs. 

“ Goin’ ter keep store,” said Johnny 
stoutly. 

‘‘ Me an’ Sophy an’ Ann ’ll play store 
with you. It’s more fun than dolls,” said 
Hitty. 

‘‘ This ain’t play! ” declared Johnny, in 
a way that made Hitty stare. 

‘‘If it ain’t play, what is it? ” was her 
astonished question. 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 181 


It’s business! ” said Johnny. ‘‘ ’N I’m 
goin’ ter make money! ” 

“ My! ” exclaimed Hitty. “ Let me help. 
I’d like to help you to make money.” 

Johnny melted. 

Here was a sister worth having! 

“Ye don’t have ter, but ye can if ye want 
ter,” he said. 

“ You an’ Sophy an’ Ann can help,” he 
continued. “ I want nails, new or old an’ 
crooked an’ rusty, no matter haow they 
look, for I’ll sell ’em for old junk ter Martin 
Mudski, the old junk man over ter the Four 
Corners.” 

“ But where’ll we get ’em? ” gasped 
Hitty, as much bewildered as if J ohnny had 
asked for diamonds. 

“Ye know when the mill was fixed 
over? ” he asked. 

Oh, yes, Hitty remembered that. 


182 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Well, me an’ some of the boys was over 
there last week, and there’s nails layin’ 
round everywhere. Ye kin pick ’em up 
faster’n ye kin pick blueberries. Ye better 
git yer pails, an’ hurry over there, an’ I’ll 
pay ye for the nails, so ye better get all ye 
can! ” 

Johnny had an eye to business. He knew 
that his promise to pay would keep the girls 
hard at work. 

He waited until Hitty and Sophy and lit- 
tle Ann had disappeared around the bend 
of the road, and then ran in to see if his 
mother would aid him in his business ven- 
ture. 

Good Mrs. Buffum was very busy when 
Johnny rushed into the kitchen. 

“ Ma, I’m goin’ ter keep a store, ’cause 
I’ve got ter have money right off. What 
can ye give me ter sell? ” 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 183 


Mrs. Buffum jumped when Johnny 
shouted, dropped a doughnut into the hot 
fat, and then sank on a chair, saying that 
his screaming had made her feel faint. 

Mrs. Buffum weighed nearly two hundred 
and fifty, and her face was very red, so she 
did not look at all faint, and Johnny tried 
again to enlist her interest. 

“ Can’t I have some goodies to sell in my 
store? ” 

“ Oh, Johnny, why do ye start ter play 
store when I’m the busiest? ” w'ailed Mrs. 
Buffum, in a way that made Johnny think 
that, if he persisted, she would aid him. 

’Taint no play! ” declared Johnny, 

it’s bus ’ness. I got ter earn some money, 
an’ I’m goin’ ter keep a store an’ sell things, 
an’ haow can I sell things if I don’t have 
’em ter sell? ” 

That was a telling argument, and Mrs. 


184 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Buffum felt that Johnny should be encour- 
aged. 

What ye goin’ ter do? ” she asked, and 
J ohnny unfolded his plan. 

He told of Prue’s promised visit, and ex- 
plained his need of money for treats until 
the time when she should leave for Boston. 

Mrs. Buffum looked for a moment at 
Johnny’s serious face and the worried 
frown that puckered it. 

Then she laughed long and loudly. 

“ Oh, my, my! ” she said, when she 
caught her breath, “ what a boy it is! I 
think little Prue is yer fast friend, sure 
enough, but if a few treats will help ye ter 
keep her friendship. I’ll see what I can do. 
I can’t give ye money ter spend, but I kin 
fix yer store some.” 

“ Oh, ma, ye’re prime! ” cried Johnny, 
“ I knew ye’d help me! ” 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 185 


I’m likely ter stand by ye, Johnny,” 
she said, laying a loving hand on his shoul- 
der. 

She led the way toward the pantry, 
J ohnny following. 

“ There’s some stale cookies in that jar,” 
she said, “ but I guess hungry boys’ll buy 
’em; an’ there’s a few doughnuts in that 
crock. They’re kind of old, but I guess 
boys’ll eat ’em.” 

“ Oh, they will! ” cried Johnny, as he 
seized the crock and started toward the 
door. 

Haow do ye calc ’late they’ll pay ye? ” 
asked Mrs. Buffum doubtfully; “ the boys 
round these parts ain’t over-stocked with 
money.” 

I’ll let those fellers that has got money 
pay with money, and them that ain’t got 
money can pay with old junk. Then I’ll sell 


186 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


tlie old junk at the Four Comers. IVe set 
Hitty an’ Sophy an’ little Ann ter picking 
up nails for me over at the old mill. I’ll 
pay ’em, so I know they’ll work. I’m 
haound I’ll get money! ” 

“ Johnny, ye’ve got spunk! I’m proud of 
ye. Go tell yer pa what ye’re up ter, an’ 
ask him if ye can have a few of the big 
pound sweetings. We’ve got the only tree 
here about, an’ they would be sure ter sell.” 

“ Oh, ma, ye’re great! ” cried Johnny, 
giving her a rough hug; and away he raced 
to the meadow where his father was at 
work. 

“ Well, well, well! Ef you don’t beat 
all! ” said Mr. Buffum, when he had heard 
Johnny’s plan, and his reason for raising 
money. 

“ I can’t help laughin’ at ye, but I’ll say 
this: ye show spunk, as yer ma always 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 187 


says, an’ I guess I kin give ye a peck of 
them sweet apples, an’ wish ye good luck. 
When does yer store open? ” 

“ Oh, pa, the apples will help, an’ my 
store will be ready jest as soon as I let folks 
know ’bout it. I’m goin’ ter take some old 
paper bags, cut ’em in two pieces, an’ write 
on ’em that my store opens this afternoon 
prompt. 

“ Me an’ Hitty an’ Sophy an’ Ann will 
go all over town, leavin’ them at folks’ 
houses; that is, where there’s boys an’ 
girls,” Johnny concluded. 

Promptly, in the afternoon, the hen-coop 
door was in place upon the kegs, and loaded 
with goodies that were on sale; and quite 
as promptly came the first customer. 

The girls had returned with their small 
tin pails filled with nails, and now, with 
Johnny, were ready to serve Phonie Jenks, 


188 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


who with one cent tied in the corner of her 
handkerchief, was trying to decide what 
that one copper should buy. 

She finally decided that two cookies for 
a cent was the best bargain. 

Johnny gave her two big ones, and pock- 
eted the cent. 

The Butley twins now strolled up the 
path. Their shrewd little eyes looked over 
Johnny’s stock for five minutes. Then Joe 
drew Job aside, and they stood whispering. 

“ Keep yer eye on your end of the coun- 
ter, Hitty,” whispered Johnny, “ they may 
be planning ter grab something! ” 

Just here, Joe drew from his pocket an 
old iron bolt, a handful of rusty nails, and a 
rusty door hinge. 

“ What can I get for them? ” he asked. 

“ Four cookies, or two doughnuts, or one 
apple,” said Johnny, promptly. 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 189 


“ ’Taint ’nougli! ” said Job, stoutly. 

‘‘ Then take yer junk home,” was the 
quick reply. 

The Butleys were astonished. 

“D’ye mean it? ” asked Joe. 

Johnny nodded. 

“ Then I’U take two doughnuts,” said 
Joe, promptly dumping his junk. 

Johnny chose two huge doughnuts for 
him. 

Job suddenly remembered that he had as 
much old iron as Joe had offered, and two 
big doughnuts were his choice. 

It happened that Prue had gone, with 
Aunt Prudence, to spend the day over at 
North Village, so she knew nothing of the 
busy day at the Buffmns’. 

Phonie Jenks had gone home to find, if 
possible, some junk with which to purchase 
one of those huge sweet apples. The Butley 


190 PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 

boys, after hanging around for twenty min- 
I utes, decided to hunt for more junk. They 
had learned that Johnny could not he teased 
into giving away any of his stock. 

When they were gone, Johnny turned to 
Hitty. 

“I’ve done pretty well, so far,” he said, 
“ but I wish more folks would come. I’ve 
got a heap of things ter sell.” 

Even as he spoke, a shrill whistle told 
that some one was coming. 

“ Oh, look! It’s Bob and Carlie! ” cried 
Hitty, and, indeed, they were at that mo- 
ment coming up the walk together. 

“ Hello! Hello! ” they called. 

Carlie thought the store very “ cute,” 
bought a dozen cookies, and paid for them 
in coppers, then she told Bob that after he 
had bought what he wanted, he might buy 
a big sweet apple for her. 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 191 


Bob, who was very fond of Carlie, bought 
the apple at once for her. He was afraid 
that if he waited until he had purchased all 
that he wanted, he might not have enough 
left to buy even an apple with! 

Mrs. BufEum came trudging down the 
path with something that she was carrying 
very carefully. 

‘‘ Here, Johnny,” she said, as she placed 
her dish upon the little counter, ” I’ve made 
some doughnut boys, an’ I guess your cus- 
tomers will like them.” 

“ Three cheers fer ma! ” shouted Johnny, 
to which all quickly responded. 

These doughnut-boys looked tempting. 

Bob Rushton immediately remembered 
that he had a quarter in another pocket. 
In truth, he had not forgotten it, but had 
left it there as the price of a ball that he in- 
tended to buy. 


192 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


But Bob had a big appetite, and the 
doughnut boys captured his quarter when 
Johnny offered to throw in three cookies. 

Later, the Butley twins returned, tugging 
a parcel that appeared to be very heavy. 
They had thrust a stout stick under the rope 
that held it, and often, on the way, they 
stopped to change hands.” 

When, at last, they set it down beside 
Johnny, and untied the rope, an odd collec- 
tion of junk was spread out for him to ex- 
amine. 

An old flatiron without a handle, a rusty 
flle, a piece of rusty chain, a quantity of 
nails and screws, some keys, an iron tea- 
kettle with a huge hole in the bottom, and 
a dozen old horseshoes. 

“ Bet we kin buy ye out with all that! ” 
said Joe. 

“Not quite! ” shouted Jeremy Gifford, 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 193 


who had just arrived with two cents and a 
pailful of nails, ‘‘I’ve got ter have some- 
thing.” 

“I’ll give ye five cookies and a big apple, 
Jeremy,” said Johnny, “an’ Joe an’ Job 
can take all there is left! ” 

Jeremy grabbed his cookies and the big- 
gest apple in the heap, and Joe and Job 
swept the remaining goodies into the old 
paper that had held the rusty junk. 

“ I don’t see what ye’re goin’ ter do with 
all that old rubbish,” said Jeremy, as 
plainly as he could with a mouth full of 
cookie. 

“ Neither do we,” said Joe Butley. 

“ What ye going ter do with it? ” 
asked Job. 

Hitty and Sophy and Ann looked at 
Johnny, and Johnny shook his head. 

“ Oh, ye needn’t tell if ye don’t want ter,” 


194 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


said Jeremy, “ but it’s some stingy ter keep 
what ye know ter yerself.” 

Even this did not move J ohnny. 

He would not tell! 

When, at last, they were gone, and Hitty 
was helping Johnny to put away the kegs 
and to gather up the junk, she asked the 
question that was puzzling her, 

“ Why didn’t you want to tell what you 
were going to do with your old iron? ” she 
asked. “ I should have felt proud to tell 
that you were going to sell it and get money 
for it.” 

‘‘ That’s ’cause ye don’t know,” said 
Johnny, “I’m the only boy that knows 
’bout the junk shop. Pa an’ me rode over 
ter the Four Corners yesterday, and the 
man was jest putting up his sign. 

“ ‘ See that, Johnny! ’ said pa. ‘ That’s 
the place where ye kin get good mone}^ for 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 195 

rubbish! ’ That’s what made me think ter 
start this store.” 

“ But why didn’t you tell? ” persisted 
Hitty. 

If I had, the Butley boys would have 
waited till they’d eaten their doughnuts an’ 
cookies, and then they’d have grabbed their 
junk an’ gone off ter sell it? ” 

“ Why, it belonged to you; you gave 
them cakes for it,” said Hitty. 

“ The Butley s wouldn’t stop ter think of 
that! ” declared Johnny, and Hitty knew 
that he was right. 

You’re awful smart, Johnny,” she said. 
“ I’m proud of you! ” 

‘‘I’m smart ’nough ter want ter sell all 
that stuff quick! ” he replied. 

“ Pa said he’d drive over with me first 
thing ter-morrer morning.” 

Then he thrust his hand in his pocket. 


196 


PRVE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Here’s a cent fer each of ye,” he said; 
“ ye each got a pailful of nails, an’ I said 
I’d pay ye. I’m going off now ter hunt fer 
more stuff ter sell.” 

‘‘ More junk? ” asked Sophy. 

“ Yes, an’ I know where there is some,” 
said Johnny, as he hurried away. 

Johnny was awake, and up early on the 
following morning. His old iron was 
packed into the back of the wagon, and he 
sat waiting for his father to come from the 
barn. 

He was so excited that it seemed as if he 
never would reach the Four Corners, and 
when, at last, they did arrive, Martin Mud- 
ski was just opening his shop. 

Johnny had found some old lead to add to 
the pile that lay in the wagon, and his father 
had contributed a handful of old door 


JOHNNY OPENS A STORE 197 


hinges, three more ancient horse shoes, a 
broken crowbar, a number of useless iron 
tools, and an old musket. 

Johnny preferred to have his father do 
the “ trading; ” and a long task it proved 
to be, for Martin Mudski was determined 
to buy the junk as cheaply as possible, while 
Mr. Buffum was equally determined to have 
all that it was worth. At last they agreed 
upon the price, and Johnny rode home the 
proud possessor of a dollar and a quarter, 
which he held in his little hot hand, while 
in his pocket lay sixty cents more. He de- 
cided to give Hitty and Sophy and Ann ten 
cents each, and then put all the remainder 
in his wee bank, to be taken out, a little at 
a time, for the pleasure of treating Prue. 


CHAPTER XI 

THE DONATION PARTY 

course, Prue told every one that she 
met that she was going to Boston, and 
as every one of those whom she told imme- 
diately told everybody else, in a few days 
the whole village knew it and talked of it. 

Some approved, others thought it a wild 
trip for a little girl; hut every one loved lit- 
tle Prue, and all were glad that a fine holi- 
day visit had been planned for her. 

Johnny Buffum was the only one who did 
not truly rejoice, hut he now felt that, with 
money in his pocket, he could he more at- 
tractive than Boston ever dared to he. 

On his way to the Centre to purchase 
something for Prue, he met Mrs. Hodgkins. 

198 


THE DONATION PARTY 199 


“ Hello, Johnny! ” she said, stepping 
squarely in front of him, “ what was yer ma 
doing when ye left home? ” 

“ Washing,” said Johnny, trying to pass 
her. 

She dodged so that he could not get by, 
and commenced again to question him. 

“ Washing, did you say? Washing on a 
Wednesday! My, but I’d get all twisted up 
if I undertook ter wash Wednesday. Is 
that all she’s going ter do ter-day? ” she 
asked. 

“ I ain’t been home since I just came out, 
so I don’t know what she’s doing now, but 
she was washing,” said Johnny, impa- 
tiently. 

“ Tut, tut! Ye mustn’t be so hasty. I 
only want ter know if she’s going ter do any 
cooking. If she is, I’ll go over ter see if 
she’s using my cook book. 


'200 PBUE’S PLAYMATES 

“ There is a rule fer making cookies with 
—good land! He’s half way down the road, 
and still running! Anybody ’d think I 
meant ter eat him! Look at him! He ain’t 
stopped yet! Wal, I only wanted ter ask a 
few questions, but as he didn’t stay ter an- 
swer ’em, I guess I’ll go over ter his ma’s, 
and see what she’s doing. There’s a rule 
that’ll make cookies with two eggs instead 
of three. I gave it ter nigh everybody in 
the neighborhood and now I’d like ter use 
it myself. 

‘‘I’d like ter know, too, if she’s smart 
’nough ter save an egg now an’ then, or 
whether she’d just as lief use eggs as not. 
Yes, I’ll have ter go over there; there’s no 
other way ter tind out.” 

Before she reached Mrs. BufEum’s, she 
saw a little figure leaning against the stone 
wall at the side of the road. 


THE DONATION PARTY 


201 


It was Prue, and so busy was she, admir- 
ing a wild flower wreath that she had been 
making, that she did not notice Mrs. Hodg- 
kins until she spoke. 

“ Hello, Prue! I hear ye’re going ter 
Boston. Be ye? ” she asked. 

“ Um— m! ” purred Prue, adding yet an- 
other blossom to the wreath. 

‘‘ Going right off? ” 

“ Ho,” said Prue, as she tied a wee fern 
among the flowers. 

“Ye couldn’t go alone! ” Mrs. Hodgkins 
said. 

“ I wouldn’t want to,” said Prue. 

“ Who’s going with ye? ” 

“ My Randy is,” said Prue, trying the 
dainty wreath upon her head, but not look- 
ing at her questioner. 

“D’ye know how long ye’ll stay? ” 

Prue shook her head. 


202 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Well, ye’ve some idee, ain’t ye? ” per- 
sisted Mrs, Hodgkins. 

Prue nodded. 

“Ye don’t seem as talkative as usual. 
Do ye know how many new clothes ye’ll 
take with ye, and what ye’re going ter do 
whilst ye’re there, an’ who ye’ll see, an’ all 
about it? ” 

Prue was confused by her numerous ques- 
tions, and, besides, she had been told not to 
talk wdth Mrs. Hodgkins about her visit. 
What should she do? 

“You know that she wiU repeat what you 
tell her, so be careful what you say,” Randy 
had said, 

“ Look up, Prue! ” said Mrs. Hodgkins. 

Then Prue did a funny thing. She held 
up the wreath, and peeped through it. 

Mrs. Hodgkins laughed. 

“ Wall, if you ain’t the cutest child I ever 


THE DONATION PARTY 


203 


see! ” she said, and she continued to laugh 
as she went on up the hill. 

‘‘ I guess I didn’t tell her much,” Prue 
said to herself, with a soft little laugh. 

The pretty wreath did not quite satisfy 
her, and she gathered a few more flowers to 
All the little spaces, adding here and there 
a tiny fern or leaf. 

A merry tune she hummed, and the 
wreath grew finer with every touch; with 
every added blossom. 

Down the road, another voice was sing- 
ing, and Prue paused to listen. 

“ That’s Carlie Shelton, I know it is! ” 
she said; and even as she spoke, Carlie 
came in sight. 

‘‘ Hello! ” she cried. 

“ Hello! ” Prue called in answer. 

Carlie hurried toward her. 

“ This is the second time I’ve been down 


204 PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 

this old hill to-day,” said Carlie, “ and I’m 
tired.” 

She sprang to a place upon the wall, and, 
for a moment, watched Prue’s busy fingers. 

“ That’s a lovely wreath,” she said, “ and 
I love to watch you making it, hut I want 
to tell you something. There’s to he a 
sociable at Parson Spooner’s house, and 
everybody is invited. Of course, every one 
will go, hut the parsonage is a little house, 
and I don’t see how we’ll all get in!” 

‘‘ Why, Carlie Shelton! We don’t ever 
have sociables in the summer! ” cried 
Prue. 

“ Well, it isn’t really a sociable,” said 
Carlie. ‘‘It’s some kind of a celebration, 
’cause they’ve been married, oh, I’ve for- 
gotten whether it is thirty years or fifty 
years, but anyway, everybody will be there, 
and they are all going to carry nice things 


TEE DONATION PARTY 205 

for a spread. Bob Rushton says he’s going 
early.” 

“ Wben is it? Why didn’t we know ’bout 
it? How soon is it? ” questioned Prue, 
dancing around; the wreath, by luck, keep- 
ing its balance upon her head. 

‘‘ Only a few people know it yet,” Carlie 
replied, and they haven’t yet told Parson 
Spooner. Some of the church people 
planned it, and it’s to be some day this 
week.” 

And while they were talking, Johnny 
Buffum came up the road and joined them. 
He heard the word “ spread,” and was at 
once interested. 

“ What ye talking ’bout? ” he asked. “ I 
heard ye say ‘ spread,’ and wherever it is, 
I’m going! ” 

“It’s to be at the parsonage,” said Carlie. 

“ Oh, then I know what ’tis. Ma’s bak- 


206 


PRUE^S PLAYMATES 


ing cake for it to-day. It’s to be ter-morrer 
night, and I told Hitty we’d better not eat 
much supper, for if we do, we won’t be able 
to enjoy the spread. Hitty said ’twould 
take more than supper to spoil my ap’tite.” 

Carlie jumped from the wall. 

“ I wish I could stay and talk with you,” 
she said,/‘ but I went to the Centre to get 
some spools of silk for mamma. She is wait- 
ing to use them, so I’ll have to run along.” 

“ See you at the parsonage,” she called 
over her shoulder, as she hurried up the 
road. 

“ I bought something purpose for you,” 
said Johnny, “ and now I’ll give it to you. 
I like Carlie, but I got this just for you, so 
I waited for her to go before I showed it 
to ye.” 

For the first time, Prue noticed that he 
had kept his hands behind him. 



“Guess what's in it.''— Page 207 





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THE DONATION PARTY 207 


Now he held up a gaily striped bag. 

“ Guess what’s in it,” he said. 

“ Candy, I know,” said Prue, “ but I 
couldn’t guess what kind.” 

She held out her hands, and he placed the 
parcel in them, watching eagerly to see if 
she were delighted. 

“ Four pink peppermints, four white 
sugared almonds, and a bar of peanut 
candy! Oh, Johnny, you are good! You 
have half.” 

Johnny swelled with pride and satisfac- 
tion. 

“ I don’t want any,” he said, ‘‘ ’cause I 
bought it all for you, and I’d rather see ye 
have it; but I’ll ask ye one thing. Let me 
sit side of ye at the spread.” 

It was a jolly crowd that, intent upon do- 
ing the parson a good turn, and at the same 


208 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


time having an evening’s pleasure, met in 
the Square in front of Barnes’s store, and 
from there set off up the road to the little 
parsonage. 

“ You ring the bell,” said one, when they 
reached the door. 

No, you ring it.” 

After a whispered dispute, the young 
farmer who had first spoken rang for ad- 
mittance, and nearly dropped the big sack 
of potatoes that he bore upon his shoulders. 

The door opened wide, they saw the lamp- 
light touch the dear old parson’s soft, white 
hair, and a shout of greeting rang out on the 
evening air. 

“ Good luck to the parson and his wife! ” 

‘‘ Good health and long life to ’em! ” 

Cheer upon cheer echoed and reechoed, 
and then the fun began. 

“ Welcome, welcome, friends,” said Par- 


THE DONATION PARTY 


209 


sou Spooner, ‘‘ the house is small, but it is 
open way through to the shed, and I hope 
there’s room for all.” 

“I’ll go right round to the shed,” shouted 
a voice from a wagon, “ for my donation is a 
load of good, dry wood, an’ me an’ my boys 
will pile it up for ye! ” 

“ That’s a welcome gift,” was the grate- 
ful answer, and the crowd laughed as they 
heard the wheels of the Butley wagon creak- 
ing their way toward the wood shed. 

“ Piling wood will keep the Butley twins 
out of mischief for a while,” laughed some- 
body. 

Squire Weston’s party came next. 

“I’ve brought ye a barrel of flour and a 
barrel of sugar,” said the squire, “ and Mrs. 
Weston has a caddy of store tea, and the 
prettiest tea-pot that Barnes coifld find in 
Boston.” 


210 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ Friends, friends, I am too grateful for 
words,” said the parson, while his gentle 
wife clung to his arm, snuling through 
happy tears. 

It was sweet to know that all the mem- 
bers of the parish held them in such loving 
regard. 

“ Philury’s done just as we told her to,” 
continued the squire, ‘‘ and she’s baked all 
creation, and brought it along with her.” 

Philury laughed. 

“I’ve got a bushel of doughnuts, twelve 
pies, an’ six loaves of bread, an’ if ye please, 
jest find a place ter put ’em, for me an’ 
Pel’tiah is jest ’bout busted a luggin’ ’em.” 

“ And I brought my saucer pie for Mrs. 
Spooner, and I don’t want anybody but her 
and Parson Spooner to eat it! ” cried Prue, 
pushing forward, and placing the little pie 
in his hands. 


THE DONATION PARTY 


211 


She did not at all understand the laugh- 
ter that followed her speech, and she looked 
eagerly for Randy and Jotham, who were 
approaching. 

Randy looked up into the kindly old face, 
and smiling, placed a little envelope in his 
hand. 

My gift and Jotham ’s,” she said gently, 
and then would have joined the merryma- 
kers, but he stopped her. 

“ Let me thank and bless you two dear 
young friends for what I know is a generous 
gift,” he said. 

“We feel that we are so greatly blessed 
that we want to make cheer for others,” 
Jotham said. 

“ Look inside and see what’s in it. I 
don’t know, and I’m wild to! ” cried Prue. 

Parson Spooner, to please the little girl, 
looked into the envelope, and started. 


212 


PEUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ My dear children! ” he gasped, and his 
good wife, wondering at his surprise, looked 
over his shoulder. 

“ A hundred dollars! ” she whispered. 
“ Oh, may they indeed be blessed! ” 

Jotham laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“ Cheer up! ” he said, “ Mrs. Spooner 
will help you spend it! ” 

The parson laughed with actual excite- 
ment. 

“ I beared yer bean crop and turnips 
wa’n’t much, so I’ve dumped a bushel of 
each in yer shed,” said a hearty voice. 

“ An’ me ’n’ my son has jest put two bar- 
rels of prime pertaters in yer cellar,” said 
another; while a third neighbor pushed for- 
ward, that Ms voice might be heard. 

“ I’ve gin ye two barrels of fine apples, 
parson, jest ter show ye that I keer a sight 
for ye! ” he cried. 


THE DONATION PARTY 213 


“ Friends, friends! Your gifts are a won- 
derful help to me, and the love that prompts 
you to send them is priceless! ” said Parson 
Spooner, his face showing his great happi- 
ness. 

There were many smaller gifts from those 
whose hearts were full of love for the par- 
son and his wife, and who had brought what 
their slender means would permit. 

After the gifts had been carefully stowed 
away in shed and cellar, the games be- 
gan, and young and old joined in them, 
and each seemed trying to make this the 
merriest party that the village had ever 
known. 

Then some one started a game that might 
especially please the children, and round 
and round flew the jolly ring, as they gaily 
sang: 

On the green carpet, 

Here we stand/^ 


214 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Philury was quite right in thinking that 
many of the guests were wishing that the 
treat might soon be enjoyed. 

She hastened to the pantry, and soon was 
slicing cold meat, finding dishes for the 
cakes and fruit, cutting pies, and directing 
the girls who had offered to help her. 

When all was ready, she appeared in the 
doorway and shouted this advice: 

“ Everybody stop playin’ for a minute, 
an’ listen ter me! ” 

The merry ring stopped its wild circling, 
and every one looked toward Philury. 

Was the feast ready? 

“ There ain’t a table in this haouse nor in 
this taown big ’nough ter seat ye all, so 
them as wants a spread take some cheers ter 
sit on, an’ if ye can’t find cheers, set on the 
floor. We’re naow ’baout ter pass the 
goodies! ” 


THE DONATION PARTY 215 


How they laughed as they rushed for 
chairs, or good-naturedly found seats upon 
the floor as Philury had suggested. 

‘‘You stay right here beside me,’’ said 
Mrs. Buffum, as Johnny wriggled from her 
firm grasp. 

“ Don’t want ter,” said Johnny, “I’d 
rather go without the treat if I can’t have 
it ’side of Prue.” 

“ Oh, let him go,” said Mr. Buffum, with 
a chuckle, “he’ll be very perlite if he’s next 
ter Prue.” 

So Johnny crossed the room, and sat 
down close beside Prue, anxiously watch- 
ing Philury, hoping that all the tarts upon 
the huge tray that she was passing would 
not he gone before she reached him. 

Every one was eager for the tarts. 

“ Take an extry tart for me when ye help 
yerself, will ye, Prue? ” he whispered. “ If 


216 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


ye will, I’ll buy ye a pickle-lime to-mor- 
rer! ” 

“ Why, Johnny Buffum! How I’d look! 
I wouldn’t be seen taking two at a time! ” 
cried Prue. 

She wished Johnny were less greedy. 

“ Not even for a pickle-lime? ” asked 
J ohnny. 

“ No, I wouldn’t! ” said Prue stoutly. 

“ Then I’ll grab three, an’ I’ll buy ye the 
lime, an’ a big green pickle, too,” said 
Johnny. 

“ John! ” said Mr. BufEum. 

“I’m behavin’, ” said Johnny. 

He knew that his father had heard what 
he had said about the tarts, and when- 
ever he was called “ John,” instead of 
“ Johnny,” he knew that he was being 
watched. 

Philury was too smart to let Johnny do as 


THE DONATION PARTY 


217 


lie wished, and when she reached the place 
where he sat, she took a tart from the tray, 
and placed it upon his plate. 

Johnny was disgusted. 

He had intended to have three, but was 
glad to get one ! 

How the good things disappeared! 

Greedy little Johnny was not the only one 
who cared for pies and tarts. He was just 
taking a huge bite from his piece of pie, 
when he happened to look toward the But- 
ley boys. He nudged Prue. 

“ See Joe Butley! ” he whispered, “an’ 
Job is doin’ it, too! ” 

“ Doing what? ” Prue asked, without 
looking up from the sandwich that she was 
trying to cut with a spoon, because she had 
no knife. 

“ They’ve put all they had on their plates 
into their blouses, an’ are passing up their 


218 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


empty plates to have them filled again! I 
guess no one need ever even call me 
greedy! ” 

Johnny felt that he was badly treated. 
Joe and Job were not only very greedy, but 
they were getting twice as much as they 
ought to have. 


CHAPTER Xn 

JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 

A FTER the good things had been en- 
joyed, old and young joined in more 
merry games, the parson and his good wife 
leading in the pleasures of the evening; and 
the gay throng seemed like one huge fam- 
ily, each member striving to add to the 
pleasure of the others. 

And when, later, they turned toward 
home, with eyes as bright as the twinkling 
stars above them, with hearts as light as 
the soft, evening breeze, they took with 
them the good old parson’s blessing, and the 
happy thought that each had given a por- 


219 


220 


PEUE’8 PLAYMATES 


tion of the bounty that had gladdened his 
kindly heart. 

“We had a lovely time,” said Prue, “ but 
I wouldn’t wonder if Johnny was sick to- 
night, for I counted the tarts he ate, and 
Philury, I’m sure it was twenty! ” 

“ Haow on airth could he get twenty? ” 
questioned Philury, “ when I only let him 
take one to a time, an’ I only passed ’em 
twicet! ” 

“ I tell you, Philury, he did get twenty, 
an’ p’raps more; ’though I think I counted 
right.” 

“ I only passed that tray twicet! ” Phi- 
lury insisted. 

“ But you set it down right side of 
Johnny when you picked up the plate of 
cookies that Joel Simpkins dropped, and 
while you were busy with Joel, Johnny just 
ate and ate without stopping! ” 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 221 


“ My, but wasn’t I careless! Well, Mis’ 
BufEum will hev a job a dosing him with 
castor He, an’ ipecac, an’—” 

‘‘ That last ain’t a cure for over-eating,” 
said Squire Weston, with a chuckle, 

“ That wouldn’t make no difference ef he 
was my boy! ” said Philury. “ Ef any one 
b ’longing ter me was such a little pig as 
Johnny Buffum is, I’d fill him up fer once, 
but not with tarts! No, I’d give him ginger 
tea, an’ castor ile, an’ saleratus, an’ rhu- 
barb, an’ m ’lasses an’ sulphur, an’ anything 
else that I had handy, an’ I guess the way 
he’d feel would surprise him! ” 

“ I guess that’s so! ” said Aunt Prudence, 
“an’ likely he wouldn’t ask fer a second 
helpin’! ” 

“ He said he was still hungry when he 
went home! ” said Prue, “ and I do wish he 
wasn’t so greedy, but anyway, he’s going 


222 


PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 


to buy me a pickled lime, and a big green 
pickle to-morrow.” 

I “ Wkere does Johnny get so many pen- 
nies to spend? ” Aunt Prudence asked. 
“ Small boys ain’t apt to find coppers on 
.bushes.” 

“ He made a store and sold things, just 
purpose to get money to treat me with; he 
said so,” said Prue. 

“ Johnny has a head for business,” 
laughed the squire, and Prue wondered why 
any one should be amused by Johnny’s 
scheme for acquiring wealth. 

Was he not very smart? 

True to his promise, Johnny tramped to 
the Centre early the next morning, bought 
the biggest lime in the keg, and disgusted 
Silas Barnes by fishing for twenty minutes 
with the wooden ladle until he had secured 
the largest pickle in the barrel. Then up 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 223 


the road he trudged, to present his gifts to 
Prue. 

He found her out by the high blackberry 
vines, and her sunny smile made him very 
glad that he had come. 

How very pretty she was! 

She drew a cookie from her apron pocket, 
and offered it to him. 

“You don’t like pickles,” she said, “ but 
you do like this! ” 

“ Guess I do.' ” he said, taking a big bite, 
“ and didn’t we have a fine time last 
night? ” 

“ And you weren’t sick this morning! ” 
said Prue. 

“Me? Guess wot.' Why should I he? ” 

Johnny’s eyes were round with surprise 
as he asked the question. 

“ Philury said you would be, ’cause you 
ate so much,” Prue answered. 


224 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


“ Oil, pshaw! Philury don’t know boys! 
I could have stayed and kept right on eat- 
ing till morning, and felt fine, too! ” 

‘‘ Why, Johnny Buffum! ” 

“ I could, but I didn’t get the chance, for 
ma took me by the arm and yanked me 
home, just as I was thinking of getting some 
more of the treat; an’ pa said: ‘ John! ’ 
when he says that, I step lively.” 

Then Johnny’s jolly little face became 
very sober. 

‘‘ Say, guess who I saw when I was 
cornin’ up here! ” he said, as he drew nearer 
to Prue. 

She shook her head. 

“ ’Twas Hi Babson’s ma, and she made 
me feel queer all over. She was standing 
at their gateway, an’ jest lookin’ down the 
road; an’ when she saw me, she kind of 
jumped, and then she said she didn’t know 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 225 

’twas me till I was real near. She’s near- 
sighted, and she said: 

“ ‘ I’m always watchin’ for Hi, an’ every 
hoy that comes up the road I think may be 
him, ’til I see ’tisn’t, then I begin watchin’ 
again. I’m sorry I made ye stop.’ 

She wasn’t cryin’, hut her voice 
sounded like it, an’ aU to once I was so sorry 
for her that a lump in my throat began to 
kind of ache. I didn’t know what I’d ought 
ter say, but I went close to her, and I said: 

“ ‘ I wisht it had been Hi that ye seen, an’ 
I wisht I knew how ter find him for yer,’ 
and she said: 

“ ‘ Dear little man, ye know haow ter 
comfort me. Kind words do help! ’ 

“ Then she asked me ter come sometimes 
ter see her, an’ I’m goin’ ter. ’F I can’t get 
Hi for her. I’ll go talk to her myself. I 
won’t know what ter say, but p’raps I’ll 


226 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


think when I get there, like I did ter-day. 
I’m sure I done right this time.” 

“ You’re just an awful good hoy, Johnny 
Buffum,” said Prue, and Johnny was twice 
glad. 

The Butleys have to sit ’side of me to 
be sure of being good,” said Prue, “ hut you 
don’t have to, ’cause you could be good any- 
where! ” 

This time, J ohnny wondered if it was all 
joy to be good. It looked almost as if the 
Butley twins had gained something by be- 
ing bad! It had obliged them to sit next to 
sweet little Prue. 

Was it all joy to be good? 

“ I wish ye had three sides,” grumbled 
Johnny, ’cause then I’d be as near ye in 
Sunday school, as Joe an’ Job.” 

“ Oh, but you sit right opposite me, and 
you really see me more than they do; you 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 227 


can look at my new hat and my pink sun- 
shade all the time! ” said Prue. 

“ They’re awful pretty,” Johnny replied, 
“ but I’d rather look at you! ” 

Prue smiled upon him sweetly. 

No prince could pay a finer compliment 
than that. 

And while Johnny and Prue were gaily 
chattering, while Prue enjoyed her pickled 
lime and the big green pickle, and Johnny 
finished the last crumb of his cookie, the 
lonely woman stood in the gateway of the 
old Babson house, still shading her eyes 
with her hand, still looking down the long, 
sunny road. 

A sigh escaped her lips. 

Grandma Babson peered over her specta- 
cles, and, for a moment, watched the tall 
figure waiting at the gate. 

“ ’Pears ter me she can’t go on that way 


228 


PBUE’8 PLAYMATES 


’thout gettin’ sick. Watchin’ day after day 
fer a little feller that’s gone no one knows 
where, ain’t likely ter make her feel any 
more cheerful than she does naow. B’lindy, 
call her in! ” 

“ It’s no use, grandma,” Belinda replied, 
“ for I’ve often told her not ter watch fer 
him, but just wait instead. She says it sort 
o’ comforts her ter watch; an’ if, some day, 
he happens ter come home, she’ll he the first 
ter see him, if she’s waitin’ at the gate.” 

And while his mother looked eagerly 
down the road, and longed for a sight of her 
hoy, little Hi, at the entrance of the tent, 
looked out toward the distant hills, and 
wished that he could see her sweet eyes 
looking lovingly at him, or feel her gentle 
hand upon his shoulders. 

Hi remembered that she had always made 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 229 


excuses for Mm, had shielded Mm when 
Uncle Babson was angry; and he realized 
now, better than ever before, how truly she 
had loved him. 

And there was something else that he re- 
membered. 

She had had little money. When his 
father had died, his brother. Uncle Babson, 
had offered a home to her and her son, little 
Hi. 

How often she had talked to him, after an 
especially naughty day, telling him that he 
should try to be good for her sake. 

That as Uncle Babson was giving them 
a home, they must try to make themselves 
welcome. 

That she could help with the housework, 
while he must do all that a little boy could 
do to help Uncle Babson,— and had he? 

Tears filled his eyes. 


230 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


“ I didn’t ever help willingly,” mur- 
mured Hi, ‘‘ an’ I grumbled every time be 
set me ter weedin’. If I didn’t want ter 
help Uncle Babson, I’d ought ter done it for 
ma, just ter please her. Why didn’t I? I 
would now; that is, I think I would.” 

He was not sure that he would be willing 
to do the hated weeding if he were again on 
the old farm. Day by day Hi longed for his 
mother, but always the thought of Uncle 
Babson, who had shown that he disliked 
boys, especially mischievous little Hi, made 
him feel that he could not go back to the 
farm. 

He pushed aside the flapping canvas, and 
stepped out on to the short, stubby grass. 
The hot breeze fanned his cheek and ruf- 
fled his dark hair. 

The tents were pitched in an open fleld, 
and Hi paused to look off at the distant hills. 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 231 


He wondered in which direction the farm 
lay. How still he stood! He was thinking, 
and his dark eyes looked darker, his brows 
puckered in a puzzled frown, as if he were 
trying to find an answer for a mighty prob- 
lem. 

He had finished his practising for the 
morning, and for a time there would he no 
tasks for him to do. 

He walked to where a moss-covered rock 
was shadowed by a clump of hushes, and 
sat down, clasping his hands about his knee. 

The big drummer now appeared at the en- 
trance, peeped out, looked around, and see- 
ing Hi, hurried toward him. 

“ What’s up. Hi? ” he asked, sitting 
down beside the hoy. 

Nothin’ new,” said Hi, “ just home- 
sick, an’ wonderin’ how I can fix it ter be 
where ma is, an’ not he on that old farm.” 


232 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


Big Jim looked at him for a moment with- 
out speaking. 

‘‘ I ain’t goin’ ter leave the circus yet,” 
said Hi, ‘‘ for I’ve just got ter where I can 
ride for the public, an’ I want ma an’ the 
folks ter see me; an’ yet, if they do, maybe 
they’d make me go hack ter the farm.” 

Again Jim sat as if thinking deeply. 

“ Yer folks ain’t got much money, ye 
said? ” he asked. 

“ I told ye ma an’ me was just kept there 
by Uncle Babson,” said Hi. 

“ It would be a big thing if a little feller 
like you could earn ’nough ter take care of 
yer mother, wouldn’t it? ” was Jim’s next 
question, and it made Hi’s eyes open wider. 

“ Oh, Jim, what do you mean? ” he asked. 

“ Wait till ter-morrer, an’ ye’U know! ” 
Jim drawled, and he refused to say any- 
thing that would explain his meaning. 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 233 


But Hi did not have to wait until the 
morrow. That night he knew, and what he 
heard filled his little heart to bursting with 
love for faithful Jim. 

At the afternoon performance, the tent 
had been crowded; and when evening came, 
every seat was taken, and many paid ad- 
mission, agreeing to stand, if only they 
might see the performance. 

Little Hi had delighted all who had seen 
him. Mantelli had praised him, and Pa- 
gington, the owner of the circus, had told 
him that his act was one of the best on the 
bill. 

Very proud of his success, hut also very 
tired, the boy had asked that he might go to 
bed without waiting as usual for Jim. 

He fell asleep as soon as his fiushed cheek 
touched the pillow, but the sound of voices 
earnestly, then loudly talking, awakened 


234 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


him, and he sat up, listening, listening,— 
what was it all about? 

Ah, that was Jim’s voice! 

“ I tell ye, Pagington, the little feller is 
a star rider, an’ yet he ain’t seen a cent yet 
for his work! ” 

“ Ain’t I had him taught, an’ ain’t I been 
feedin’ an’ clothin’ him all this time? ” 
Pagington replied. 

“ Sure,” responded Jim, “ an’ I didn’t 
ask ye ter pay wages when he was learning, 
did I? It’s now that he’s a reg’lar rider 
that he ought ter be paid! ” 

“ Who ever heard of payin’ a child? ” 

“ Why not, just as much as payin’ Man- 
telli? ” cried Jim. The crowd finds him 
jest as much worth seein’! ” 

‘‘I’ll not do it! ” was the angry retort, 
“he’s a child, an’ I’m givin’ him his livin’, 
an’ a chance ter make a name for himself! ” 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 235 


“ Jack Pagington, you ’n’ me has been 
good friends for years, an’ this is tbe only 
mean, graspin’ thing I ever knew ye ter do, 
an’ I’ll not let ye do it! Ye pay little Hen- 
rique; why not pay my little friend Hi? ” 
Henrique’s got a mother what insists 
on his bein’ paid, so I hev ter.” 

“ An’ Hi’s got a mother, what he’s soon 
goin’ ter see, an’ she’s poor, an’ dependin’ 
on rel’tives that ain’t none too willin’ ter 
give. I tell ye, Pagington, ye’ve got ter 
treat the boy fair, or answer ter me, yer 
friend. 

‘ ‘ Ye know I’m honest. Pay his wages ter 
me, an’ I’U save ’em for him till he sees his 
mother. Then I’ll hand every cent of it 
over ter her! ” 

‘‘ Ye’re a detarmined critter! ” grumbled 
Pagington. 

“ I be! ” assented Jim. 


236 


PRUE’S PLAYMATES 


‘‘ I can’t pay back pay,” objected Pa- 
gington. 

“Ye ought ter,” said Jim, “ but I’ll let 
ye off on that, if ye’ll promise ter give Hi 
his first week’s wages ter-morrer! ” 

There was a hasty movement. Hi lis- 
tened! 

“ Oh, well, if ye goin’ ter make a fuss 
about it,— ” 

“ I’ll do jest this, Pagington! ” said Jim, 
“ I’m Hi’s friend, an’ I’m your friend, too. 
You act fair, an’ I will. Refuse ter pay the 
little chap, and I find a way ter let his folks 
know where he is! Ye know what that’ll 
mean,— they’ll come after him mighty 
quick! Pay him fair, an’ I’ll keep the 
money safe for him, an’ when he lets his 
folks come ter see him ride, I know I can 
make them see that he’d better stay with 
ye, an’ support his ma.” 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 237 


“ Looks like I’d Lev ter, if ye’ve sot yer 
mind on it, so I’U agree, an’ stick ter it! ” 

“ All right! ” said Jim, and then, al- 
though Hi listened, he heard not another 
word. Then the lights were turned out, and 
he heard Jim nearing his bed, knew that 
the big fellow was undressing, then felt him 
creeping softly into bed, intent upon not 
wakening his little friend. 

“ Oh, Jim! Dear old Jim! ” whispered 
Hi, and Jim’s throat suddenly troubled 
him. 

“ Did ye hear? ” he whispered. 

“ Yes, yes! ” whispered the boy, and 
softly his arm stole under Jim’s neck; and 
while the boy cried for joy, the tears filled 
Jim’s blue eyes, but in the darkness Hi 
could not see that. 

Ah, happy dreams filled the dark hours 
of night, and in them Hi saw visions of little 


238 


PRUE’8 PLAYMATES 


Prue, rode for her delight around a huge 
ring, tossed handfuls of bonbons to her, 
gave bags of gold to his dear mother, and 
felt as rich as a prince! 

He dreamed that the old farm was com- 
pletely overrun with pusley, hateful, slip- 
pery old pusley! It grew in the fields, in 
the garden, in the dooryard, up the side of 
the house, on the roofs and the chimney! 

And Uncle Babson, unaided, must clear 
the farm of the disgusting weed! 

And while Hi was dreaming of all these 
impossible things, his memory turned again 
to little Prue. She was smiling, she was 
holding out her little, dimpled hands toward 
him! 

It happened that at that very moment, 
Prue was dreaming of him. She thought 
that Hi was trying to speak to her. 

‘‘ What is it? ’’ she cried, and awoke to 


JOHNNY ENJOYS A FEAST 239 


find the sunlight streaming in at her win- 
dow. 

“ I wonder where Hi is? ” she said, as she 
had so often said before. 

Of the many, many things that happened 
to Hi Bab son, of the winter sports, of the 
exciting events at the Centre,” and of 
little Prue’s visit to Boston, one may read 
in 


“ Prue’s Merry Times.” 



THE PRUB BOOKS 

By AMY BROOKS 

Illustrated by the Author 12mo Cloth 
Price, $1.00 each 

SISTER PRUE 

RUNNING little Prue, one of the most 
winsome little girls ever ‘‘put in a 
book,” has already been met in another 
series where she gave no small part of the 
interest. She well deserved books of her 
own for little girls of her age, and they are 
now ready with everything in the way of 
large, clear type, and Miss Brooks’s best 
pictures and her pleasing cover designs to 
make them attractive. 

“It is a healthy, happy, charming book.*’ — 
Buffalo News, 

AT SCHOOL 

J ITTLE PRUE is a favorite at school and 
we cannot wonder that she is. Hers is 
of the “district school” variety, for Prue is 
a little country girl, but blessed with the 
kindest of parents and a very charming older 
sister. A part of the story is devoted to Hi 
Babson, a mischievous but manly little former 
playmate of Prue’s, who, tired of “doing 
chores,” had run away with a circus. How 
the misguided boy fared is a very interesting 
story in itself. 

“Prue is a charming little girl, wholesome 
Duluth Herald, 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by the publishers 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 



and good to read about. 


LITTLE 



PRUE 


The Dorothy Dainty Series 

By AMY BROOKS 

Large i2mo Cloth Illustrated 
BY THE Author Price $i.oo Each 

Dorothy Dainty 
Dorothy^s Playmates 
Dorothy Dainty at SchooJI 
Dorothy Dainty at the Shore 
Dorothy Dainty in the City 
Dorothy Dainty at Home 
Dorothy Dainty's Oay Times 
Dorothy Dainty in Country 

‘‘Little Dorothy Dainty is one of the most generous-hearted 
of children. Selfishness is not at all a trait of hers, and she knows 
the value of making sunshine, not alone in her own heart, but for 
her neighborhood and friends.** — Boston Courier. 

Dorothy Dainty, a little girl, the only child of wealthy par- 
entSt is an exceedingly interesting character, and her earnest and 
interesting life is full of action and suitable adventure.** 

•^Pittsburg Christian Advocate » 

“No finer little lady than Dorothy 
Dainty was ever placed in a book for 
children.*’ 

— Teachers' yournal^ Pittsburg, 

“Miss Brooks is a popular writer for 
the very little folks who can read. She 
has an immense sympathy for the chil- 
dren, and her stories never fail to be 
amusing.** 

— Rochester {Ah, V,) Herald, 




LOTHROP. LEE & SHEPARD CO.. BOSTON 








JUL 7 1910 








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